


Harry Potter's Twin Sister

by Dobby_and_Padfoot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse in Beginning, Gen, Harry Potter Has a Twin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 02:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14203458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dobby_and_Padfoot/pseuds/Dobby_and_Padfoot
Summary: Skyler Potter always knew that she was different. What she didn't know was that her twin brother was none other than the boy-who-lived. What happens when Skyler magically appears at Hogwarts during Harry's first year? What house will she be in? Will her and Harry share a special connection, or will they not recognize each other at all? Warning: Slight child abuse in early chapters, and it is referenced in later chapters. Rated Teen. Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.





	1. Prologue

My name is Skyler Lillian Potter, but all my friends call me Sky. Or, they would if I had any. I've got black hair, that wouldn't stay down if my life depended on it, and the brightest green eyes you've ever seen, marred only by the strangely shaped, lightning bolt scar that runs lengthwise through my left eye. Contrary to popular belief my vision in that eye is fine. I mean I have perfect twenty-twenty vision in both eyes. People are always telling me I'm super pale, but it's not my fault I spend most of my time inside. The only time I go outside to weed the garden. I'm also rather short and skinny for my age, probably because of not having consistent meals for the last nine years of my life. I assume my parents are dead. What I know about my parents I'm not positive because social services don't even have a clue. They're the ones who placed me with my foster parents. We don't get along well. That's an understatement, but you get the point. The only thing I am certain of about my origin is that I appeared on the doorstep of an orphanage when I was a little over a year old. There was a note I wasn't allowed to read, but read anyway, (The social service's office needs better locks on their filing cabinets. I took twenty-six seconds to pick that lock.) that read:

_ To whom it may concern, _

_ This child is Skyler Lillian Potter. She was born on July 31st, 1980. _

That was it, short and to the point. Nobody knows where I came from or who my parents are. My foster parents told me that my parents didn't want me anymore so they gave me to the orphanage. I think it is more likely that they died. I wish I knew more about them.

I live with my foster parents, Joe and Josephine, and their son, Dulcis. His name in Latin literally translates to sweet, very ironic considering he is anything but sweet. He's a bully through and through. Before you decide you feel bad for me and want to be my best friend, I should warn you I do freakish things. That is what my foster parents call them at least. They hate the things I can do. I think they're awesome though. I mean I can get revenge on anyone I want.

Once Dulcis, who goes by Duke, --I would too, if I was him. Who would want a name like Dulcis?-- and his friends, or gang whichever you prefer, were trying to get me to do their homework for them as well as destroying my homework when suddenly all the nails on Duke's left hand grew seven inches. It was hilarious. Or it was until Joe found out about it. I told him it wasn't my fault, even though I'm 99.9% sure it was. He did not, however, agree with that statement, and I was grounded for a month. You might be thinking, well being grounded isn't so bad, but you don't live here. I get locked in my bedroom and only let out to do my chores. If I'm lucky, I get one meal a day. Plus, my bedroom isn't exactly top of the notch. I live in the loft. I have a rotten mattress on the floor and one ratty blanket. Not to mention the fact that when it rains the ceiling leaks.

On another occasion, my primary teacher was yelling at me for cheating on a test since I actually received a passing grade. My grades are normally very dismal since Duke always tears up my homework. Also, Joe and Josephine hate it when my grades are higher than "their precious sweetie-pie." When they talk like that, it makes me want to gag. Not like I care what they think though. I like to have grades as high as I can achieve them. They think they can tell me what to do. Pht. I still get bad grades on homework though because Dulcis ruins it all. But, anyway, back to the story. She was mad at me for cheating, and I might have shouted back that she was wrong, but so what; she was, when all of a sudden, the lenses of her glasses exploded. Definitely a coincidence right. I thought so to, but the teacher was of a different opinion. She practically dragged me to the principal's office. When my foster parents got the call, they were very, very unhappy. Actually, that's probably the understatement of the year. They locked me in my loft for an entire week. I never left the room once not even to perform my chores. I didn't receive any food either.

Some other things that have happened are: I talked to a green garter snake while I was doing the gardening; I set one of Duke's friend's hair on fire when he broke my wrist, and I even disappeared from break once when Duke and his friends were chasing me. I reappeared in the sanctuary of the library. Duke and his gang hardly ever enter the library of their own free will. However, I was still grounded for breaking school rules. We have to stay outside during break, and can't enter the library without permission. What a stupid bunch of rules. I've done many more things but I think I'll keep them to myself for now. Knowledge is a good form of leverage after all, and someday I might need it.

None of these are the strangest things, though. No. The strangest thing that ever happens to me is "The Dreams." They are fairly common. I've been having them when I go to sleep for as long as I can remember. They are always about the same person, someone named Harry Potter. Now, I know what you're probably thinking; that I belong in a mental hospital. But, I honestly think these dreams are real.

It isn't some fantasy I made up because my life sucks. I mean Harry's life is hardly any better than mine. He sleeps in the cupboard under the stairs for crying out loud. He lives with his Aunt and Uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley, and their evil son Dudley. Whenever Dudley is present in the dreams, I get the same urge to punch him that I get when I'm talking to Dulcis (I have actually given in to this urge once or twice. I'll let you imagine the punishment I got for that because I really don't think you want to know, nor do I have any yearning to tell you). Dudley and his friends act much the same way towards Harry that Duke and his friends act to me. Harry makes the strange things happen, too.

Once Harry's primary school teacher was telling Harry off for bullying Dudley when really it was the other way around. Her hair suddenly turned an electric blue color. Harry's relatives locked him in his cupboard for a week after that. He was only given a bit of food each day. I felt awful for him. I forgot to mention him and I look almost identical, except for the fact that he wears glasses. He even has the same birthday as me. Sometimes during these dreams, I can even tell what he is thinking. Actually, I can always tell what he's thinking if I tune into it. I also feel any pain that happens to him. If he gets hurt, I feel the pain and get the injury from it. Sometimes when he is hurt or something I feel as though I could just appear at his side. I've never actually tested this theory I don't want to get in too much trouble.


	2. Visions

I know it’s a vision the moment it starts, for the fact that I can't see myself. Since I get many of these dreams at night, (I don't get them during the day without turning into them unless Harry is getting hurt) I don't think they happen at the exact moment they are happening to Harry. I just get the interesting stuff at night. I instinctively begin looking around for Harry. I know that he is here somewhere, I don't think I’d suddenly have a new type of vision about somebody else. When I actually start paying attention, I realize I'm inside of a zoo, a reptile house at the zoo to be exact. Harry is standing, by himself, by a glass tank with a boa constrictor in it. He looks semi-surprised when it understands him. I guess he can speak to snakes like me too. I come closer to where he is and listen to what he is saying.

“...you come from anyways?” Harry is saying. The snake uses his tail to point at the sign right outside the glass. I read it and it says,  “Boa Constrictor, Brazil. This specimen was bred in captivity.”

It appears to me that Harry only read the first bit because he asks the snake if it was nice in Brazil. The snake just points at the sign again. Then, Harry says,  “Oh, I see -- so you've never been to Brazil?”

I turn away after that and see a small rat-faced boy, who from past visions I know is named Piers, come up behind Harry and scream,  _ “DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT’S DOING!” _

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I groan, waking up from my dream, or vision. Sitting up on my mattress, I look at the door. A rough shout comes from the other side of the door, “Hey, brat, get down here and make breakfast.” I hear the pounding of his feet as he trudges back down the stairs. Oh, wonderful; it’s Joe. I stand up and walk to the corner of the room, where my clothes are. I grab an old blue shirt, and a pair of black shorts, and put them on.

I march down the stairs. Err, maybe not march, I was trying not to make much noise, but you get the point. Here, how about this: I snuck down the stairs and into the kitchen. I pulled out a pan and some bacon and eggs. The same thing I make for them every stinking day. Really what do I have to ask for a little bit of creativity?

As I cook, I tune into Harry’s thoughts. Apparently, that event which clearly happened yesterday caused him to be locked in his cupboard without food. He always sneaks out to get some when the Dursleys go to sleep, but still, I could tell he was apprehensive because the Dursley’s never told him how long his punishment would be lasting. I smell burning and only a split second passes before I realize that it isn't coming from Harry’s thoughts. It is, in fact, coming from the repetitive breakfast I was currently making. Stupid: getting so caught up with Harry, that I didn't notice what was happening around me.

I look down at the food, the eggs are fine so I remove them from the stove. The bacon, though, is clearly burnt on the edges, but only about half of them. I remove them from the stove and put them on a plate. I break them into halves, hoping to divert attention from the fact they are burnt. I open the window and flip on the fan to try to air out the smell. Maybe they won't notice. I definitely don't have time to remake it. I turn off the stove, wait for the burning smell to die, shout that breakfast is ready, and bolt to my room.

My feet twitch in my nervousness so I pick up a book and begin to read it. It’s an action novel, by Anthony Horowitz, called “Alex Rider.” I found the series in the trash in the library once. They're not missing pages but the covers were in pretty bad shape, or in some cases, nonexistent. I've read the series several times and have pretty much memorized it. The book does the trick and pretty much calms my nerves, even when I hear Joe’s feet pounding up the stairs.

“Did you burn that food?” he shouts.

Obviously, I did, but there’s always a chance he wasn't sure if I had or not so, with a straight face, I reply, “No.”

His face starts to turn red as he says, “Yes you did, don't lie to me.”

I'm not sure what possessed me to say this, probably the book I was reading, but I reply sarcastically, “Why ask if you think you know?” I don't regret it though, because the look on his face is priceless, even after he backhands me across the face. I taste blood, so I know he must be pretty angry.

“Don't disrespect me brat!”

“Respect is something to be earned.” I know it’s a stupid thing to say, but I figure he’s mad enough anyways, why not get a bit of revenge from him while I'm at it.

The second hit to the face is harder than the first if you can believe that, and the punch in the ribs definitely bruises something, but all in all, that punishment was not as bad as I expected. That’s how I knew it wasn't over yet. His face was purple by this point, and that was not a good thing. It meant I had really, really made him mad.

He gripped my arm tightly with both hands and I bit down on my lip knowing what was coming. He moved his hands in a quick motion, cleanly snapping the bones in my arm. I bite down so hard on my lip to keep from giving him the satisfaction of hearing me scream, that my lip starts to bleed, but boy does it hurt. After that, he leaves the room, slams the door, and locks the latch. He put it on after realizing I could pick the lock on the doorknob. I grab a shirt from the corner of my room and wrap my arm up as best I can. Then, I lie down and grab my book to keep reading where I left off on page 164 of the third Alex Rider book, Skeleton Key.


	3. Almost There

_ My breath quickens as I hear a terrified, ear-piercing scream, followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor. An insane laughter rises up in the evilest sounding way possible. My hands shake slightly as I see a flash of green. _

I sit up, still panting from the disturbing nightmare. I expected it, but that doesn't make it any less terrifying. I always seem to have this dream or one similar the night before and of Halloween. There is probably some story behind it, seeing as Harry has a similar memory of a bright light. He thinks it is from the car crash his parents died in, or he did until recently. On his birthday he found out that his parents were a witch and wizard, who were murdered by Voldemort on Halloween when he was a year old, and that he was a wizard as well. I figure my dream coinciding with Harry’s parents' death can't just be coincident. The explanation that I came up with: Harry is my brother.

All the facts I have support the theory. We look almost identical. Both of us have lightning bolt scars. We’re orphans. We both remember flashes of green light, and the most prominent piece of proof: Hagrid, the man who told Harry about his heritage and took him to get his school supplies for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, told him that his twin sister was never found dead or alive. Obviously, she could have just vanished after she died, since no one ever found her, but I think my theory is more probable and more appealing.

He has been attending the school now for almost two months, and what I've seen of it is amazing. The teachers all seem pretty nice. There are only two that don't: Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell.

Snape is the potions professor and Head of the Slytherin house. He seems to have a particularly strong hatred for Harry. It appears to be due to his fame, but I think there is more to it. He sometimes loses some of his malice when he sees Harry’s eyes. It’s almost as if they remind him of someone he knew. Maybe he was friends with Harry’s mother since Hagrid told Harry he had his mother’s eyes, and if my theory is correct, my mother, too.

Quirrell is the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and he is just plain odd. Harry might not have put it together yet, but Quirrell often stares at him. Also, his stuttering is odd. Most people that I've seen stuttering stutter over the same sounds, but Quirrell stumbles over different sounds every time he speaks. There is just something off about him. I don't know what it is, but it sets my teeth on edge.

I check my watch. It is about 5 o'clock, so it isn't really worth it to go back to sleep. I get up and dressed. We don't have school today seeing as it’s Halloween, so I’ll probably have a long list of chores to do. Real good way to spend the holiday. Not that I'm surprised or anything.

Joe didn't latch the door to my bedroom last night. Probably because my being grounded ended the night before. I was being punished because I received better end of term grades than Duke, which wasn't too difficult considering he’s an idiot. Usually, I try not to make my foster family angry, if I can help it unless they really deserve it. However, I refuse to hold myself back and ruin my future, just to avoid punishment. I have to think of the bigger picture sometimes. 

I creep down the stairs and start on my indoor chores: cleaning the restrooms, the kitchen, the living room, the bedrooms, which I'm not doing right now, and the garage. I don't plan on finishing everything before they wake up. I just want to get an early start to make sure I finish everything. I can only imagine what would happen if I didn't.

 

______________________Time Skip 5:00 PM______________________

  
  


Joe, Josephine, and Duke went out for the day, because we had no school, and left me at home to do my chores. Before they left Joe told me I had better finish all my chores, and I did try.  _ Really _ , I did. But the chore list he left me looked something like this.

 

_ Do Dishes _

_ Sweep _

_ Scrub Kitchen Floor _

_ Do Laundry _

_ Clean and Organize: _

 

  * __Lounge__


  * _Basement_


  * _Duke’s Room_



 

_ Weed Garden _

_ Paint Shed _

_ Paint Fences _

_ Clean Restrooms _

So honestly, it’s not really my fault I didn't finish.

When they arrived home at five, I had finished everything, but the kitchen, lounge, and half of the basement. Now maybe you understand why I wasn't capable of completing everything, but for some reason, I doubt Joe will be very understandable.

I hear the front door open, signalizing their return. Their feet pound through the front hallway, and then they stop. Quite abruptly, I might add. 

“Potter!” Joe screams, “Come here! Now!”

I inwardly groan. Clearly, he is quite angry if the gruffness of his voice is anything to go by. I stand from my position on my knees, where I was organizing the disaster of a basement. I reluctantly, but quickly, move to make my way up to the main floor of the house, feeling doomed.

“Yes, sir,” I say quietly, so as not to anger him further.

“What… Wha… What…” It takes him awhile to get the words to come out of his mouth, stuttering just like Quirrell. While it is mildly amusing, it would not be in my best interests to laugh. The stuttering itself is just further proof of how furious he really is. “What have you been doing all day? Lazing around? Did I not specifically tell you to clean both the kitchen and the lounge?”

Josephine cuts in then, “Also one might assume she is also not finished with basement considering she came from that direction.”

I never said that Josephine wasn't semi-observant, even intelligent. It’s a pity her son didn't inherit that talent. It’s hard to appreciate, though, when I'm sure it just made my punishment significantly worse. I look Joe’s feet- he doesn't like eye contact- and say, “Yes sir.”

I know from previous experiences that trying to explain myself would not help at all, so I don't try to. Not doing so won't take away the punishment, but it won't become any worse either. 

It’s a mere seconds after I voice my reply that his hand strikes me across the face. It hurts. A lot, but I don't react. I don't want to show any weakness in front of this man. I briefly let my eyes flick to his face to try to judge his mood. His face is a dark red. Definitely, not good, but if you can believe it, it turned even darker when he saw my eyes looking at him.

“What did I tell you about making eye-contact with your betters? Not only do you disobey me when I tell you to do your chores, but you also disrespect me by daring to make eye-contact.”

His fist makes contact with my chest during his speech, and based off the burning I now feel with each breath I take, I figure he has bruised, or possibly even broken, several of my ribs.

He slaps me again across my cheek, and I can tell he is asking me something, but I can't tell what. My brain is starting to focus on something else. I can still feel the pain, but even it is dulling in favor of the scene that is now taking place before my eyes.

There is a disgusting smell about the place. Sort of like Duke’s dirty socks, mixed with a dirty old toilet. The place I am in was, in fact, a bathroom, and Harry is here. He looks panicked, and he isn't alone. Ron, a red-headed boy he had befriended at Hogwarts, is there, as well as a girl, who is a bit of a book-worm that Harry and Ron don't exactly get along with, named Hermione. And, there was a troll. 

It is a hideous creature. About twelve feet, with grayish skin and a bald head that was much too small for its body. It was carrying a large wooden club. It raises the club and is about to bring it down on Hermione’s head when Harry leaps onto the end of the club. I am so overcome with worry, that I pay no attention to my surroundings until I hear a loud Crack, and begin to feel slightly nauseous. Then, I look up.


	4. Unanswered Questions

**_Previously:_ **

_ It is a hideous creature. About twelve feet, with grayish skin and a bald head that was much too small for its body. It was carrying a large wooden club. It raises the club and is about to bring it down on Hermione's head when Harry leaps onto the end of the club. I am so overcome with worry, that I pay no attention to my surroundings until I hear a loud Crack, and begin to feel slightly nauseous. Then, I look up. _

Now, it's important you understand that in my visions, they usually seem real, but I can always tell I'm not really there. I could tell no such thing now, though. Even with my eyesight severely clouded from nausea I'm feeling, I can tell I'm witnessing this newest "vision" in person. Not that I'm certain it can still be classified as a vision, though, if I'm actually here.

My eyesight clears just in time for me to see the troll falling to the ground, with Harry's wand stuck up its nose. I feel like I should say something, to let them know I'm here, but my mouth isn't cooperating. I take deep breaths to try to curb the panic I am feeling. When I calm myself down enough to regain control of my senses, I feel the pain from my injuries come rushing back.

I groan inwardly from the pain and the realization that several teachers have entered the bathroom as well and are speaking with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. All of the teachers have their eyes focused on the trio and have yet to catch sight of me in the corner. That's probably a good thing because for some reason I doubt I'm a pretty sight to see.

I hear McGonagall remove five points from Hermione, before giving those five plus five more to Ron and Harry. Then, she dismisses them. The teachers turn to leave when Snape catches sight of me. He freezes, and the other teachers turn to see what caught his attention.

"Who are you?" McGonagall asks, looking straight at me.

I hesitate briefly, still in shock, before mumbling, "Skyler."

"And how did you come to be here, Skyler?" She asks looking at me like I am some type of perplexing mystery.

I risk a glance at Snape and immediately wish I hadn't. He is staring at me as though he has seen a ghost, or more accurately, he was staring at my eyes. I look back towards McGonagall and stutter out, "I- I don't know, ma'am."

As I was answering, I see Snape telling Quirrell to leave. It made me sort of grateful to him. Quirrell was giving me the creeps. My attention is drawn back to McGonagall when she tells me to come over to where she and Snape are standing.

I do so, with little hesitation, but I do be sure to give the troll on the floor a wide berth as I go around it. I stop about seven feet away from the two professors. I try not to fidget as I feel their confused gazes studying me.

Snape breaks the awkward silence by saying to McGonagall, "You know, it may be wise to finish this conversation in the Hospital Wing."

With that he turns around and walks from the room, robes billowing behind him as he goes. McGonagall turns to me and says, "Come along, Skyler. I'm sure you have questions, but we will have to wait until you are healed to search for the answers to said questions." She heads out in the direction that Snape just went, and I scamper quickly to keep up with her.

Out in the hallway, Snape waits for us to catch up to him, before marching in the direction of what I assume is the Hospital Wing. McGonagall and I follow along behind him, the three of us all in utter silence. There aren't any students in the hall, due to the troll, I'd assume. This is lucky since I would rather not be asked incessant questions that I don't know the answers to.

We walk to a set of old looking double doors and go through them. Inside is a room with white walls, a white floor, several white beds with curtains, and a couple of windows. In other words, the spitting image of what you would expect an infirmary to look like.

Snape walks into a room connected to the one we were now in. I suspect it is an office of some sort. When he is gone, McGonagall gestures towards a bed in the far corner of the room, and says, "Why don't you have a seat on the bed back here, Skyler."

I walk towards the bed she is gesturing to, wondering why I am even semi-trusting someone I've never met before. Then I realize that I have met them before, just not in person. I already know enough about them from their interactions with Harry to at least give them a semblance of respect.

I reach the bed and seat myself tensely on the edge of its surface. Just because I decided I would give them a chance, doesn't mean I'm going to completely let my guard down.

McGonagall opens her mouth to say something when the office doors fly open with a bang. The noise startles me into jumping as an older gray-haired lady with bright blue eyes barges into the room, followed closely by Snape. Her eyes scanned me up and down, mostly focusing on the bruises that lie on my face.

She turned to the professors and made jerking motions with her hands towards her office door, as she said to them, "Out. Out. Go wait in my office. You can ask the poor girl your questions later."

The teachers without any trace of hesitation went straight to the room they were ordered to. The lady then turned to me and says, "My name is Madame Pomfrey. I am the school nurse here at Hogwarts. You are?"

"Skyler," I say, louder than last time.

"Yes, okay. Skyler, please move so that you are sitting against the headrest of the bed so that I can perform a diagnostic spell on you."

I hesitantly move to the position she asked me to, as she pulls out her wand and performs the spell as she said she would. A piece of paper appears at the end of her wand, which, I assume, is detailing the extent of my injuries.

She mumbles to herself as she reads it, and I catch phrases like, "Oh not good,"

"A nutrient potion," and "Broken ribs."

"You appear to be rather malnourished, but not dangerously so," Madame Pomfrey says, "You also have two broken ribs and three others that are rather bruised. It'll only take me a minute to fix it up for you."

She performs another series of spells, and I gasp in pain as my ribs put themselves back together. She then walks over to a cabinet to her right and pulls out two vials of something. She comes back over to where I sit.

"This is for the bruises on your face. Take this potion and the bruises should disappear within a day or so." She hands me the first vial, and I look suspiciously at the potion, before reluctantly swallowing it. The foul taste of the potion makes me grimace. She holds out another vial for me, "And this is a nutrition potion, which should help with the malnutrition. But you need to eat something before taking it." She snaps her fingers and calls out, "Kibby!"

A small, blue, big-eyed, pointy-eared creature appears in the middle of the room. The creature has on some kind of pitiful robe type attire, and turns to Madame Pomfrey and bows, "Missus, what can Kibby do for you."

"Please bring me some chicken noodle soup and pumpkin juice please."

"Yes Ma'am," and with that, the strange creature disappears causing me to blink in shock.

A few minutes later Kibby is back with the food Madame Pomfrey requested. She takes the food from the creature, who bows profusely, before vanishing again from sight.

Madame Pomfrey hands me the food and states, "Eat as much as you can, then take your potion. I am going to go and speak with the Professors, and when you're done, I will allow them in here to answer your questions and ask some of their own."

She leaves to go into her office leaving me alone. I begin to eat the food that she had the creature get for me, and I wonder just what I have gotten myself into now.


	5. Half-Truths

**_Previously:_ **

_ Madame Pomfrey hands me the food and states, “Eat as much as you can, then take your potion. I am going to go and speak with the Professors, and when you're done, I will allow them in here to answer your questions and ask some of their own.” _

_ She leaves to go into her office leaving me alone. I begin to eat the food that she had the creature get for me, and I wonder just what I have gotten myself into now. _

 

Right as I finish eating and take the nutrition potion, which actually tasted rather sweet, Professors McGonagall and Snape walk into the room. The tray I had sat down previously vanishes after Madame Pomfrey points her wand at it, and mumbles the words to some type of spell.

Madame Pomfrey turns to the professors and says in a scolding voice, “I will be in my office if you need me. Don't hassle my patient too much. You have ten minutes.”

She turns to go to her office as she said she would, and the professors turn to me.

McGonagall opens her mouth to speak, but Snape beats her to it, saying, “Are you Skyler Potter?”

McGonagall looks at him in shock and a hint of sadness, before she turns her analyzing eyes back on me. I allow my eyes to flicker from one professor to the other, before mumbling, “Yes.”

McGonagall's face pales, and she looks at me like she’s looking at a dead person. Snape, though, simply nods, as though he had anticipated this to be my reply.

McGonagall, in a quiet voice, asks, “How?”

She seems upset and I probably should act more compassionately, but the attention is starting to make me uncomfortable so I simply shrug.

She suddenly turns to Snape and states, “I have essays to mark. I trust you can finish up here.” She walks out without waiting for him to reply, and though I can’t be sure, I think I saw a hint of tears in her eyes.

Snape turns to me to continue his questioning, “Explain to me how you think you got here, and perhaps how you came to be injured.”

I consider telling him that I have no clue, but maybe I can find out why he is so horrified by my eyes, and discover some answers of my own. Instead, I take a deep breath and start my tale, “I was around town when I started having a vision.”

He looks about to interrupt, but I anticipate his question and continue speaking, “I often have visions of a boy named Harry, who I think is my brother. Usually, I have them at night, like a flash of all the interesting things that happened to him that day, but when he is particularly hurt or upset, they will sometimes overtake my consciousness to the current time and place I am at.

“In this particular vision, I could see Harry and his friend near a hideous troll. I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but I was so worried about him, that I heard a loud crack and started feeling very nauseous. Then, I realized I was here.”

“I see,” Snape drawls, “And while this is all quite enlightening, I fail to see how it accounts for any of the injuries you seem to have acquired.”

I know I should have anticipated that he would pick up on the information I had left out, but I was hoping he wouldn't bring it up right at this instant. To be fair though, the question only makes me pause for a split second before I reply, “I got into a fight, sir.”

I know that even if Professor Snape is good at telling when people are lying, it’s unlikely he’d catch my lie. The reason: it’s not a lie.

I have an abundant amount of practice with telling lies, and one of the things I've learned is that the best way to lie is to tell a vague half-truth. That's all my statement is, because Joe and I were fighting, in a way.

Snape’s eyes narrow slightly before he seems to accept my statement. I force myself not to sigh in relief because that would completely ruin the point of my lie. I've already come up with an alternate backstory for myself, so that they don't go looking for, and find, my foster family. I doubt they'll report me missing, so there isn't any danger in them alerting the magical authorities.

“Yes, well, I assume you are correct about Mr. Potter being your brother. Though, I will have to brew a potion to know for sure. How long have you had the scar through your eye? It is a very unique shape.”

_ It had been the first time that Joe had ever hurt me more than a cuff around the head, or a shove. I had been at the top of the stairs in the loft, and he had been yelling at me for forgetting to do some chore or another when he shoved me against the wall. It wasn't a finished wall, and there was a jagged nail sticking out of it. The pain of it made me jerk in just the right way and I managed to end up with the lightning bolt scar. _

_ Joe hadn't meant for it to happen, and the injury wasn't all that deep, but when he saw the blood on my eye, it seemed to ease his anger. After the incident, his punishments became worse. I was six at the time. _

I obviously don't tell the story to Snape, no need to make him think I'm weak, so instead, I say, “I scratched myself on an old nail when I was younger.”

He nods in acceptance to my answer, and I smile inwardly at another successful half-truth. “Have you any questions you wish for me to answer?”

There are a good many things I am wondering, but I can't help but phrase the question that has been on my lips since I first saw the professor in person, “Did you know my mother?”

I mentally curse myself for being unable to contain my curiosity, but Snape doesn't look too offended, just a bit shocked. He falters before asking, “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“I know my eyes are like my mothers’, because Hagrid told Harry that he had her eyes, and our eyes are pretty much the same color. Also, when you first saw my eyes you looked as though you'd seen a ghost, so I figured you and her must have met at some point.”

He gets an odd expression in his eyes at this point. Sort of a mix of being impressed, confused, and I think a bit proud, but that’s probably not right. We barely even know each other; why would he be proud of me? His face goes blank and he says, “That’s correct. We were friends when we were in school.”

He looks at the clock on the wall before saying, “I believe you should get some rest now. It would hardly do to have an overprotective medi-witch in here harassing us about you not getting the proper rest. I will return to speak to you, with the headmaster, when you awaken.”

“Yes sir,” I reply, as he strides from the room.

Madame Pomfrey returns muttering about ‘impatient teachers who keep her patients up past their bedtimes,’ and I have to bite my tongue to keep from smirking to myself.


	6. Old Men, Hats, and Harry

**_Previously:_ **

_ He looks at the clock on the wall before saying, “I believe you should get some rest now. It would hardly do to have an overprotective medi-witch in here harassing us about you not getting the proper rest. I will return to speak to you, with the headmaster, when you awaken.” _

_ “Yes sir,” I reply, as he strides from the room. _

_ Madame Pomfrey returns muttering about ‘impatient teachers who keep her patients up past their bedtimes,’ and I have to bite my tongue to keep from smirking to myself. _

 

I don't completely remember falling asleep, but before I know it, my eyes open and are battling the sleepiness away. It takes me a moment to realize that I didn't have a single nightmare, despite it being the night of Halloween. This is perplexing to me, but it is pushed from my mind when I realize I am not alone in the room.

I sit up startlingly fast, and the quickness of it does startle the greying man beside me. He appears tall, even though he is sitting down, thin, and pardon me, but he looks really, really old. I mean I wouldn't be surprised if this guy was born in B.C. times. He also has blue eyes with a glint in them, almost like a twinkle of joy, which was hidden behind a pair of odd half-moon shaped glasses.

He looks apologetic, but there is a twinkle of amusement in his eyes that sets my teeth on edge. I hate being laughed at. “Sorry I startled you,” he says.

I cool my inner anger, to keep it from being shown upon my face, as I reply, “It’s no problem.”

I know it won't do any good to show weakness around this man. His portrayed self may seem to be old, frail, and slightly senile, but underneath all of that, there is a clear level of cunning that warns observers to tread likely around the powerful man. I assume this man is the headmaster Professor Snape had been speaking of. And when I say “I assume,” I actually mean I know. I saw the man in one of my visions, and I know his name to be Albus Dumbledore.

“So, Professor Snape tells me that you told him your name was Skyler Potter, the long lost and supposedly dead twin sister of Harry Potter. He also tells me that you have been having visions of Harry for as long as you can remember. Of course, I wouldn't recommend sharing that particular piece of evidence with anyone else. They could seek to exploit that.”

I nodded in all of the right places to show I was listening. It’s not as though I planned to tell anyone about my visions. I'm not even totally sure why I told Professor Snape.

“I suppose you are wondering what you are going to be doing now,” he pauses in his speaking as though waiting for a response, so I humor him by nodding.

“Well, I have planned for your sorting ceremony to take place at dinner this evening, but if you would be interested, I figured you could meet your brother before that comes about. Then, since you will be sorted tonight Professor Mc-, your head of House will take you shopping for your school supplies tomorrow morning. Is this agreeable to you?”

I nod my head slowly, so as to not let him notice that I caught his slip up. Does he think he is truly all so knowing that he would know what house a girl he’s never met before would be sorted into. Maybe I'm reading to far into it. Maybe he was simply planning to have Professor McGonagall show me around, but changed his mind. 

I also wouldn't want to give too much away, but inside I am super excited and slightly nervous, about meeting Harry for the first time. Right after I think that thought though, my mind supplies to me that this isn't the first time I've met him. This doesn't do much to ease my worries though. What if Harry doesn't like me? What if he doesn't feel like he knows me like I know him?

“Wonderful,” he says enthusiastically, “I’ll go fetch Mr. Potter, now. Perhaps if you are willing Miss Potter, you and I could speak sometime in my office, so that I might come to a better understanding of how you were removed from your parents’ house the night that they were attacked?”

This idea sounds wholly unappealing to me, but any smart person can see the benefits of having a man like Dumbledore as an ally. I reply in a falsely happy, yet diplomatic voice, “Of course, sir, that sounds wonderful.”

“Excellent. I will send young Mr. Potter here to speak with you in a moment.”

Dumbledore rises from his chair and leaves through the doors to the Hospital Wing. Once he is gone I let the false smile I had been holding up for the duration of his visit fall from my face. It’s not necessarily that I have something against the man. I just feel like there is more to who he is than what he shows to the world, and there is a danger to not knowing who a person truly is because you can never accurately predict their future actions. People who wear their hearts on their sleeves are predictable, but they are also fairly irritating. Dumbledore is just enough of the latter to make his personality dangerous.

As I wait for Harry to arrive, Madame Pomfrey enters the room through her office door, and says, “So the headmaster finally left, did he? No matter. No matter. I’ll just give you a quick checkup now before anyone else comes asking about visiting you.”

She speaks too quickly for me to tell her that Harry will be coming soon, but I figure she can wait to find out when he arrives. She pulls out her wand, and waves it over me, muttering, “Yes, yes, you are looking much better indeed. Your injuries have all healed up nicely, and though you are still underweight, I feel that will be easily cured, after a few weeks at Hogwarts.”

She turns to me a second later and says, “I give you a clean bill of health. You are fit to attend your sorting tonight,” she pauses a moment as though considering something, before continuing, “And, I’ll even allow you to speak to the young man, your brother if I have my people right, who is waiting patiently outside the door.”

My head turns to the door. Harry is indeed standing outside the door. He looks a bit shocked, but I can tell he is excited too, and that observation alone sets my fears aside.

A small smile comes to my lips, and Madame Pomfrey chuckles at seeing it, and turns to go to her office, but not before saying, “You can go let him in if you want.”

She closes her office door as I leap up from the bed to go let Harry in. It is only at this moment that I realize my clothes fit me better than they ever did before, but they're not new clothes. They are definitely the same ones I was wearing when I came here. I decide to just let Harry come in now and to not ponder the reason, which is no doubt magic of some kind, for my clothes being suddenly able to fit me.

I open the door cautiously, and Harry jumps a little bit. We are silent, looking at each other for several moments. It isn't an awkward silence though. In fact, it is a rather comforting silence.

However, I break it by saying, “Hello Harry.”

He smiles as he says, “Hello Skyler. Dumbledore told me I could find you here.”

“Yeah, he came and talked to me earlier.”

There is a silence again, but this one is slightly more awkward than before.

Harry breaks the silence this time, though he opens and closes his mouth several times prior to speaking, “I feel like... like I've known you for a long time. When Hagrid told me I had a twin sister, I wasn't surprised at all. It surprised me more when he told me you were presumed dead. Because… well, this is going to sound crazy but, I think I've seen you before… in my dreams. It’s… Especially I see you when I'm upset or hurt, but when I try to focus more on the feeling it is like there is something blocking me… something in my mind. I know it sounds crazy, but considering we’re in a world full of magic…”

My lips twitch into a grin. It takes all my self-control to keep from breaking out into a full out grin. Harry knows me too. He’s not being awkward because he doesn't know me; it’s because does.

I quickly speak to keep him from thinking that I believe him to be insane for thinking that, “You're not crazy,” his eyes, which were on the floor, bolt to my face, “I have dreams about you too. Though, really mine are more like visions. I can see things that are happening to you. Usually, I just see them like a flash at night of things that happened that same day, but sometimes, when you're particularly upset or frightened, I’ll get them during the day. That's how I got here. I could tell you were terrified when you saw that troll, and I just showed up… In the bathroom. I'm still not entirely certain how that occured. Rest assured, though, you can only be as crazy as I am.”

He is grinning by the end of my rapid speech as well, but his grin isn't as contained as mine. It is free, genuinely happy, and the sight of it suddenly makes it so much harder to control my expression. My grin widens, almost against my will, and I chuckle a little as Harry starts full out laughing. I stop to regain composure nearly as soon as I start. It’s not that I distrust Harry. Goodness no, because I trust Harry more than anyone I've ever met, but there’s no telling who else may be watching.

Suddenly, Harry’s eyes flicker to the clock on the back wall. His grin fades, and his face pales, “Blast it! I'm almost going to be late for potions,” he turns back to me and says, “Sorry Skyler, I've gotta go. Professor Snape is going to chop me up and use me for potions ingredients. I’ll see you at dinner tonight, right?”

“Yeah, for sure,” I reply, amused by his reaction, “I'm being sorted.”

“Oh, good luck. See you.” His parting words, and his exit through the doors barely even register to me though, because a new horrifying thought has entered my brain.

Will Harry care what house I go too? Logic tells me that he wouldn't care, seeing as how well we got along now, and how he already seemed to know me. My brain though, or more specifically my heart, just can't seem to come to that conclusion itself. It’s telling me that he was picky about his house choice, maybe he’ll care about mine too. I shake the thoughts out of my head and give the control to my logic if only to keep myself from worrying.

The rest of my night passes relatively uneventfully. I rest in the stupid hospital wing bed,  _ all _ day. Eventually, Madame Pomfrey takes pity on me and gives me a book to read. It’s  _ Hogwarts: A History _ and I actually find it to be quite an interesting book, but finally, it is time for the sorting.

Dumbledore arrives and escorts me to the Great Hall. When we walk through the grand doors, I very nearly gasp. I saw it in a vision, and  _ Hogwarts: A History, _ but it is still way more impressive in person. I do manage to keep my composure in front of the entirety of the Hogwarts student body and staff. At least one thing works in my favor.

I look towards the table at the head of the hall and see an old brown hat sitting on a stool. The entire hall had gone silent when we arrive, minus the whispers that were rising up all around me.

Dumbledore and I approached the stool, and when we were within a five-foot radius the hat begins to sing,

_ Again speak I up here to sort, _

_ Though not a year has passed. _

_ For one thought dead, has been returned, _

_ And is alive at last. _

_ To sort is what I am to do, _

_ And I’ll try to make it fast. _

_ To one of four, you must belong, _

_ Houses of the Founders’ craft: _

_ Gryffindor, where go the brave, _

_ Through personalities contrast. _

_ Ravenclaws are wise, _

_ And never seem to be anything near daft _

_ Kind and loyal are to Hufflepuff, _

_ Friends from here are always completely steadfast. _

_ And to Slytherin will go those who above all value cunning, _

_ And never see each other as outcasts. _

_ So come here now, and put me on.  _

_ I’ll tell you where to go to put behind the past. _

_ To be in the place where you will belong, _

_ And learn the very best. _

The entire hall begins to clap for the hat. Dumbledore raises his hand and the applause dies down, “We have but one name to sort at this time. When your name is called please take your seat on the stool with the hat on your head. Potter, Skyler.”

If I thought the whispers were bad before, the increase after the announcement of my name is nothing short of terrifying. I brush back my feelings of fear and let only confidence show on my face and posture. I walk to the stool and have a seat. I make eye contact with Harry, who nods encouragingly before Dumbledore places the hat upon my head.

Suddenly a voice speaks in my head,  _ “So, you are the missing twin of the-boy-who-lived, are you? Hmm… Interesting. You seem different than your brother. I can tell you value loyalty, but your sarcastic and harsh outlook on life tell me Hufflepuff is not the option for you. You value learning, but it is not your focus, that removes Ravenclaw as well. Now we are down to Gryffindor and Slytherin. I can see you have no preference as to which. I can tell you though your worries about your brother are likely unfounded. He does love you. Now Gryffindor definitely does not seem right for you. You value bravery, yes, but you wouldn't jump in to save someone else at random. You think things through. You know how to protect yourself, and you know how to lie. I think the clear choice is…” _

The voice in my ear stops, and a single word is shouted to the entire hall, “SLYTHERIN!”

The whispers go completely silent. I appear to have shocked the entire hall. No one starts to clap for several moments, but the pause hasn't been too long when Harry begins to clap loudly. The hat was right. He did love me no matter what. There are several other scattered applause from the students. When Professor Snape starts to clap through, the entire Slytherin house breaks into semi-enthusiastic applause.

I stand up from the stool and hand the hat to Dumbledore, who has a poorly disguised mask or shock on his face. I guess I was right. He did expect me to go to Gryffindor. I walk to the Slytherin table, and sit down in an empty seat, next to a blonde haired boy. Draco Malfoy, I recognize. To the other side is a tall, thin, sandy-brown haired boy, whose name I think is Theodore Nott.

I come up behind them and ask, “Can I sit here?”

They shrug, and I take that as my invitation to sit down.


	7. Friends, Enemies, and In Between

**_Previously:_ **

_ I come up behind them and ask, “Can I sit here?” _

_ They shrug, and I take that as my invitation to sit down. _

 

I sit down between the two of them. The tension from the entire table is very easy to read, clearly not all of them are excited that I've been put into their house. Where I have sat down, the people near me all appear around my age. There are five boys and four girls at the table, each with their own unique reaction to my sitting down.

The blonde haired boy, Draco, I sat down next to seems to be really uncomfortable with the silence and opens his mouth to break it, “So… You're Potter’s twin sister?”

“Actually, my name is _ Skyler, _ ” I reply. I put emphasis on my name because no matter how much I love Harry, I am also my own person.

The dark-skinned boy across from me snickers, as Draco’s face turns pink. He tries to cover up his embarrassment by saying, “I'm Draco. It’s nice to me you,” during his speech he holds out his hand.

I shake it and say, “Likewise.”

Then, he turns to the other eight people and begins to introduce them each by name. He points to the dark-skinned boy and says, “That idiot there is Blaise.”

Blaise gives Draco a half-hearted glare, before turning to me, holding out a hand, and saying, “Nice to meet you. Don't listen to him though; he’s just bitter that I got a better grade than him on our last potions essay.” My lips quirk up at the corners, and I shake his hand too.

Draco scowls and cuts back in to continue introductions, “That's Tracey.” The brown-haired girl in question smiles and nods at me. He then points to the sandy-haired boy next to me who is reading a book, “That’s Theo. He never stops reading.” Theo rolls his eyes and gives me a polite nod.

He then turns to the three girls on the other side of the table. There is a blonde haired girl, a black haired and heavy set girl, and a light brown haired girl. Draco points to them in order and says, “That’s Daphne, Millicent, and Pansy.” 

They each give me dismissive and disgusted looks, that have a clear meaning, before all moving one seat over in the opposite direction.

Draco looks slightly confused before pointing to the two overweight boys across from the girls and saying, “Anyways… that's Crabbe and Goyle.”

Crabbe and Goyle scoff at me and begin to snicker at something Pansy muttered under her breath. They move over one seat as well, so that they can near the girls.

Theo, who had been reading quietly, looks up from his book and says, “Ignore them. They don't know what they're talking about.”

Tracey, Blaise, and Draco nod in agreement; though, Tracey’s nod is a lot more enthusiastic than the boys’.

I feel a genuine smile or at least a ghost of a smile, come to my lips as I say, “Thanks, guys.” And, I mean it. This is the first time I've ever had anything that could be considered friends, and I have to say, it’s a great feeling.

After dinner, Draco leads us, well mainly me, to the Common Room. We go down into the dungeons and come to a portrait. Draco says, “Asphodel,” and the portrait swings open like a door to admit us entrance to the Common Room. 

The room is amazing, and that is an understatement. It is a lavish room, covered in the color green, and many carvings of snakes. There is a fireplace surrounded by comfortable chairs and couches, and many tables for doing homework. 

Now, I've seen the Gryffindor Common Room in a vision, and I have to say that this room is set up much better for doing school work. 

While I am admiring the beautiful artwork, an older, muscular boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, with black hair walks up to me and says, “New Girl.”

I turn to look at him, and he continues in a tone that clearly says he is unsure what to make of me, “I'm Marcus Flint, prefect of Slytherin house, and in Slytherin, we have a couple of rules that must not be broken. Not following these rules will result in receiving detention or a deduction of points from Professor Snape. Don't think he’ll go easy on you though. He may show favoritism to Slytherins in class, but that is only for appearances, and there is no one to see him in here.”

He pauses for a moment to glance at me, and I nod to show that I'm listening. Once he is satisfied that I really am listening to him, he continues, “The first, and most important rule is to never argue with your fellow Slytherins outside of the Common Room. If you can be discrete you can get away with it at the dinner table, but don't count on it. Professor Snape also expects you to keep all of your grades at an acceptable level. If you feel like you are falling behind, ask for help from either, one of your yearmates, an older student, or the Professor himself. Professor Snape will likely help you to catch up on what you have missed so far in the year. Since you're a first year you are required to be in your dorm by 9:00 on school nights, and 11:00 on the weekends. Don't try to stay out past then. You  _ will _ be caught. You must arrive to breakfast at precisely 7:30 or earlier, on days you have classes, and 9:00 on the weekends. If you follow these rules, you should find you won't have too much trouble here in Slytherin house. Just remember that outside of this dorm, you must appear united with all of this house. Got it?”

I realize that there are only four rules, and they are very simple, so I nod and say, “Yes.”

He gives me a searching look, before pointing to a staircase and saying, “Your dorm is up those stairs to the left. Good luck in Slytherin.”

He turns and leaves to go talk to what I assume are his year mates, and I walk up the stairs he directed me towards.

When I enter the dorm I realize that this is the most extravagant room I have ever set foot in, in my entire life. There are five beautiful four-poster beds with nightstands to go with them. The entire room is a dark shade of green, lined with silver, and it is amazing.

I almost don't realize that Pansy is approaching me until she is five feet in front of me with Daphne and Millicent by her side. She gives me a scathing look and sneers, “Look who it is.”

Daphne snickers as Millicent smirks and adds, “Yeah it’s Harry Potter’s little sister. Bet he’s as shocked as we are you got put in our house because you don't belong here.”

I was doing my best to ignore her, but her words came a bit too close to some of my recent fears. Luckily, Tracey speaks up drawing the attention away from me momentarily, “Oi! Leave her alone. She has as much right to be here as all of you.”

I smile at her gratefully, but Pansy does not look pleased, “Shut up, Half-Blood. You don't know anything about the standards in Slytherin house. If the hat honored them you wouldn't be here either. Half-bloods are just as bad as Mudbloods in my opinion.”

I look at Tracey and see that those words actually had an effect her. I speak to get Pansy to stop making Tracey her target, “Actually. If we didn't belong in Slytherin house, then I doubt we’d be here. I'm pretty sure a magical hat can figure out what house to send eleven-year-olds to. Unless you don't believe in magic, in which case you'd probably be living in a muggle house somewhere and not attending a magical school.”

Pansy’s face turned bright red, and I can tell I have said something that upset her. Not that I feel bad about it or anything. She definitely deserved it, “I'd watch your mouth if I were you. I'm going to make sure you regret being sorted here if it is the last thing I do. We don't want the Gryffindor sister of the boy-who-lived ruining our honorable house. You'd do well to watch your back.”

I raise my eyebrows as the pathetic threat. What exactly is are three eleven-year-old girls going to do to me. I mean I guess they could get some help from older students, but still. 

I walk to the empty bed beside Tracey, which I assume is mine and sit down. It is around ten o'clock, but apparently, all the other girls are going to go to bed now, so I decide I will too. I don't have any other clothes so I simply draw the curtains around my bed and wait for everyone else to fall asleep.

Just because I decided Pansy, Daphne, and Millicent aren't too much of a threat, doesn't mean I'm going to completely let my guard down around them.

When I'm sure that everyone else is asleep, I lay my head down on my pillow. I fall asleep almost as soon as my head touches it.


	8. New Feelings and Diagon Alley

**_Previously:_ **

_ When I'm sure that everyone else is asleep, I lay my head down on my pillow. I fall asleep almost as soon as my head touches it. _

 

I wake with a start at six the next morning. My heartbeat is elevated and my breath is nearly hyperventilating, but I have no memory of what it was I was dreaming about before I woke up. I take several deep calming breaths to calm myself down, before climbing out of bed.

I glance around the room and see that everyone else is still asleep. I stand up, aiming to go exploring when I notice a piece of parchment on the bedside table beside my bed. I check once again to ensure everyone else is asleep before lifting the parchment to read it.

_ Miss Potter, _

_ When you awaken please report to my office which is located within my classroom in the dungeons. We will be traveling to Diagon Alley to retrieve your school supplies. If you need help locating my classroom, please ask one of your classmates. I expect you no later than nine o'clock. If you arrive early it will not concern me, but please take care not to be late. _

_ -Professor Snape _

 

I decide that I may as well make my way there now. It could take me awhile to find the room, and it’s not like I have anything better to be doing right now. As I walk towards the dormitory door, I step on a floorboard that lets out a dreadful creaking noise. I wince and look around to make sure I didn't awaken anyone. 

Pansy, Daphne, and Millicent are all still sleeping soundly, which is good because they were the ones I was worried about. Tracey, however, groans, a sure sign that she is waking up. She groggily sits up, wiping the sleep from her eyes. 

She looks questioningly at me, and I say, “I'm going to Professor Snape’s office so that we can go and get my school supplies. You can go back to sleep if you want. I don't know when I’ll be back.”

She blinks several times as she takes in what I was saying before muttering sleepily, “Alright. I’ll see you when…”

She falls asleep before she can finish her statement, and I chuckle at her. I make a mental note which floorboard squeaks and continue on my way downstairs. When I enter the Common Room, there are only around five people in it, including myself.

I smirk at the couple making out in the corner of the room and observe the other two occupants in the room. I recognize these two. Draco is asleep on an armchair, making my smirk grow even wider. The other person sitting beside Draco is, however, very much awake.

Theo looks up from his book, and seeing my expression, breaks into silent laughter at the sight. It would seem he hadn't noticed the absurd position of his companion. He waves a hand in my direction, clearly motioning for me to come over to him.

As I reach his chair, he whispers to me in a hushed voice, “And to think, it was Draco’s idea to get up this early and come down here.” Theo smiles a fakely patronizing grin in Draco’s direction, and I snicker at him, before Theo continues, “Are you going somewhere?”

“I'm going to Professor Snape’s office,” I reply, “We’re going to pick up my school supplies from Diagon Alley.”

“Oh, fun. Do you need help finding his office?”

I consider taking him up on his offer, but I do have three hours, so I shake my head and say, “No thanks. I don't have to be there for about three hours so I'm sure I can find it. See you when I'm back. Oh and if you don't mind, can you tell Tracey where I went when she wakes up. She woke up a few minutes after me, but I'm not sure how conscious she was.”

He snickers and says, “Yeah, see you, and no problem.”

I leave the Common Room, starting my adventure to find Snape’s office.

It takes me about an hour to realize I am completely lost. I sigh. Great. I'm going to be late to my first meeting with my Head of House. I do of course realize that I have two hours left, so I decide to instead go looking for another person, who can tell me how to get there.

As fate would have it, I hear voices not five minutes later. The voices come closer, and I smile as I realize that I know one of the voices.

Not ten seconds later, Harry and Hermione come around the corner. Harry’s face breaks out into a wide grin when he sees me, and I'm sure my face holds an identical expression to his.

He says excitedly, “Skyler.” He runs over to me and wraps his arms around me. I am taken by surprise for a minute, and I tense up. Then, once I realize what was going on, I relax and tentatively wrap my arms around him as well.

I've never given anyone a hug before, or at least not in any way that counts. Once Josephine gave me a hug when I was five for appearances at a school activity, but that didn't count, because she punished me afterward for, “making her give me a hug.” Like I wanted a hug from her. This is completely different, though. It makes me feel warm inside like I belong somewhere.

He releases me, turns to Hermione, and says, “Hermione this is my sister Skyler. Skyler this is my new friend Hermione.”

I hold my hand out to Hermione and say, “It is nice to meet you, Hermione.”

She smiles at me and takes my hand, “You too.”

Harry’s grin grows even wider that we are getting along, and he explains, “Me and Hermione are just heading to the library to do some studying. Ron, he’s another one of my friends, he didn't want to get up this early, so he’s still in our dorm. Are you trying to get somewhere?”

Harry’s excitement must be contagious, because I can feel my mood improving rapidly as well as I respond, “Yeah, but I'm kind of lost.”

“Oh, I can give you a tour if you want. And I can introduce you to Ron, and we’ll all go exploring together. Oh, and if you made any friends in Slytherin yet they can come too.”

“I'd love to Harry, but I have to go to Professor Snape’s office first because he is taking me to get my school supplies. Do you think the two of you could show me how to get there?”

I worry for a minute he’ll think I don't want to hang out with him, but his smile stays right in place, as he nods and says, “Of course we can. Is that okay Hermione?” Hermione nods in agreement, still grinning as well, and Harry continues, “Maybe I can show you around when you get back?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

Hermione speaks up then and says, “Come on, Skyler, Professor Snape’s office is right this way.”

Together the three of us make our way to Snape’s office. We talk a bit on our way there, and when we get there, we all say goodbye and that we’ll meet up again soon. Then, Harry and Hermione make their way to the library.

I hesitate momentarily before forming a fist with my left hand and knocking on the large wooden door.

Not even two seconds pass, before a voice from behind the voice calls out, “Come in.”

I open the door and enter the Potions’ classroom. The room is dimly lit with rows of desks and several cupboards, which I'm sure are filled with the potions ingredients that Harry was so afraid of being turned into.

Professor Snape gives me a searching look and says, “I didn't expect you quite this early, but that is just as well. We can get an early start this way. I assume one of the prefects already explained the rules of Slytherin House to you?” I nod quickly, and he continues, “Good. You would do well to follow all of the rules because they all have a purpose. You didn't by any chance make your way to the Great Hall to eat something before coming here, did you?”

My eyes widen. To be honest the thought never even crossed my mind. I am so used to missing meals that I didn't even think about eating something. I quickly open my mouth to apologize, “I'm sorry, sir. I didn't even think about it. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to or not. I'm terribly sorry, sir.”

I probably would have continued speaking if he didn't raise his hand to stop the flow of apologies from coming out of my mouth, “It is alright Miss Potter. I already had a house elf deliver something for the two of us to eat. I did not expect you to eat before you came here. Come this way to my office, and we’ll enjoy our meal.”

I feel extremely relieved. I was really worried that I had disappointed Professor Snape. Upon realizing that was the cause for my odd reaction, I get a strange sort of feeling. I've never worried about disappointing anyone before. I mean Joe and Josephine were never disappointed in me. They just didn't like me. Nothing I did could have changed that. I'm not sure what it is about Professor Snape, but I can't help but want to make him proud of me, and I have never ever felt this way about anyone before.

I follow Snape to his office, and he gestures for me to sit down at the table set up in the room. I sit down cautiously, and he sits down across from me. I don't think about it until right after I sit down, but he said “house elf,” and I have absolutely no idea what that is. I suppose it could be the little creature that brought me food in the Hospital Wing, but I will have to visit the library soon to be sure. 

“So,” he says, “did you have any difficulties finding my classroom.”

I feel a slight feeling of heat come to my face as I reply, “Just a little, but Harry showed me how to get here.”

My lips twitch into a slight grin when I mention Harry, and an odd expression comes to Professor Snape’s face. He nods to me though, pulls out two potions, and says, “I need you to take this potion when you finish eating,” he hands me a potion that I recognize as the nutrition potion I took yesterday in the Hospital Wing. Then, he holds up the second potion, which is a dark green color, “This potion is a bloodline potion. It will reveal your family. All I need is a single drop of your blood to activate the potion.”

I hesitate momentarily before holding out my right hand for him to take a drop of blood from. I give him my weaker hand because I don't want anything to happen to my good hand.

He takes my hand gently and pricks it lightly with a needle. He holds my hand over the potion. The blood falls into the vial, and it flashes red before returning to its green color.

The Professor releases my hand and pulls out a piece of parchment. He dumps the contents of the potion onto the paper, and writing begins to appear on its surface.

He lifts the paper reads it and hands it to me. I read the words, and a feeling of security and finality takes hold of my heart. The paper reads:

 

_ Name: Skyler Lillian Potter _

_ Mother’s Name: Lily Jean Potter nee. Evans _

_ Father’s Name: James Fleamont Potter _

_ Brother’s Name: Harry James Potter _

 

I nearly drop the list from joy. It is finally official. Now, no one can disagree that Harry is really my brother. I smile a real smile, and I catch sight of something akin to amusement on Snape’s face, but he seems to be happy about something too. I couldn't tell you what that something is, but he was very nearly smiling too.

The strange expression leaves his face, and he says, “Shall we eat our breakfast now so we can begin our trip to Diagon Alley?”

“Yes, sir,” I reply, clearing my face of expression as well.

The action seems to disturb Professor Snape because his eyes narrow momentarily before he pours some of the cereal on the table into his bowl. He gives me a pointed look and glances at the cereal box.

I hesitantly reach out and grab the box. I pour a little into the bowl that was on the table in front of me. I eat slowly, and neither of us talks during the meal. When I finish my bowl, I drink the nutrition potion that Professor Snape gave me.

After the Professor finishes as well he stands up and says, “We are going to be flooing to Diagon Alley. I don't suppose you have ever traveled by floo before have you?”

I am fairly confused at this point, so I simply shake my head no.

“That’s quite alright, but I will be traveling with you to avoid you arriving in the wrong part of the Alley.”

“Yes, sir,” I respond as I stand up.

“Here. Follow me, Miss Potter.”

He walks towards the fireplace at the far end of his office and stops directly in front of it. I scrunch up my eyebrows in confusion. Are we going to travel through the fireplace? I almost dismiss that as impossible, but then I realize I'm in a magical castle.

Snape waves me forwards and says, “Don't be alarmed. Flooing is really quite simple. The green powder here,” he grabs a handful of the previously mentioned substance, “will make the fire unable to inflame either of us. When we step into the fireplace, I will speak our destination, and we shall come out in another fireplace in Diagon Alley. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” and it’s true; it does make quite a lot more sense now that he explained it to me.

“Let’s be off then.”

He grabs ahold of my shoulder and steps into the fire, without loosening his grasp. He throws the green powder to the ground, and green flames rise up around us as he says, “Diagon Alley.”

I clench my eyes closed in sudden shock, as I feel the same feeling of slight nausea that I felt when I appeared at Hogwarts for the first time. I might have fallen when we arrived if it not for the firm grip that Professor Snape had on my shoulder. I feel extremely grateful when he does not instantly let go of my shoulder but holds on until I feel as though I am able to stand again. Then, and only then, he removes his hand. 

When I open my eyes again, I realize we are in a huge, white, and furnished room, that is filled with goblins. The last of those observations is the one that leads me to realize that this is Gringotts, the Wizarding Bank.

“Do you feel alright?” he asks, and I nod weakly in reply, “Good. We are now going to travel down to yours and your brother’s vault to pick up your money for your school supplies.”

I nod in agreement, and we begin walking towards the desk of a goblin, whose name tag says he is named Gornuk. He is a short creature, like all the other goblins, but he is the only one who doesn't sneer at Professor Snape and me when we approach.

As we draw nearer, Snape inclines his head in a respectful way towards the goblin. I figure it is some sort of custom that I am unaware of and repeat the gesture. The goblin returns the gesture to us.

“Gornuk,” Professor Snape says, his tone is brisk but polite, “I am here to access Miss Potter’s vault.”

He holds out a golden key that Gornuk takes and observes, before saying, “Right this way Professor. Miss Potter.”

We follow Gornuk into a cart. When we step into the cart it immediately starts off at a fast pace towards, I assume, my vault. The ride is very exciting, in my opinion, and I am almost disappointed when we come to a stop in front of Vault 687.

Gornuk steps out of the cart and says, “Vault 687.”

He turns the key in the lock and opens the door to the vault. The gold within the vault is so bright I almost have to turn my head away from it to avoid being blinded. Professor Snape rises from the cart and I follow him. He gathers up a good amount of money into a bag and hands it to me, saying, “This is for you to purchase your school supplies. We shall be visiting the shops containing the items on your list as soon as we leave Gringotts.”

I nod my understanding, and the three of us climb back into the cart and return to the main hall of the bank. Gornuk bows to us as we leave, and I, following Professor Snape’s lead, bow back to him. 

Then, Snape turns and marches out of the entrance and into the streets of Diagon Alley. When I exit the building, I almost gasp in shock. It is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my entire life. The streets of the Alley are so lively and colorful, and there are signs of magic everywhere. I fight to keep my face blank, but the incredibleness of everything around my ensures that it is a very difficult battle indeed.

Snape and I visit so many stores that I lose count of where all we have been. We gather all the items on the list that Snape is constantly checking things off of. I purchase all of the necessary items as well as several additional books that catch my attention in Flourish and Blotts. Then, it is time to visit Ollivander's.

The Professor and I approach the black building, which I know is where I will finally receive my wand. We enter the shop, and a white-haired man comes out from behind the counter to greet us.

“Well, I’ll be,” he looks directly at me in something akin to shock, “I can't say I expected to see you here, Miss Potter. I'm sorry to say that I was under the impression that you did not survive You-Know-Who’s attack on your family,” he is giving me a searching gaze, but he continues on quickly when Professor Snape raises an eyebrow in his direction, “No matter though. I suppose you are here to receive a wand.”

I nod my head, and he asks, “Which hand is your wand hand?”

“My left,” I reply, nearly without thinking.

A tape measure comes out of nowhere and begins to take my measurements. After several minutes Mr. Ollivander brings out ten different wands that he supposes may be accurate matches for me.

“Applewood and Unicorn hair,” he says handing me a wand. I grab it, but he quickly snatches it away. This repeats five more times before he hands me another wand saying, “Spruce and Thunderbird Tail Feather. An interesting combination, but it could work.”

I take the wand, and immediately feel a protective feeling flow through my body.

Ollivander smiles and says, “Yes. Bravo. A good match it would seem. Though, I dare say it won't be an easy wand to master. No matter. It will, of course, have its reasons for picking you. That will be seven galleons please.”

I hand him the money from my bag, having been explained the names of the different coins, and he says, “Have a nice day Miss Potter,” then giving Snape a quick nod, “Professor.”

Professor Snape turns and exits the building as I say, “You as well, sir,” and follow him.

The Professor is waiting for me when I come out. When I reach where he is standing, he says, “Do you intend to purchase a pet? I would recommend it, as many students at Hogwarts will have them as well.”

“Yes sir,” I say, quickly.

“Then, go ahead into Magical Menagerie and pick one out. I’ll wait out here for you,” he gestures in the direction of another shop.

I walk through the doors of the shop, and I am immediately overwhelmed by the number of animals. I'm not sure what I want, but I find myself inadvertently drawn to the far side of the store, where there are lines of snake cages.

There are several large snakes that look exceptionally mean. It doesn't help that they are hissing rude words in my direction, ranting about how I can't hear them anyways. 

I turn to the nearest, a large boa constrictor, and say, “ _ I wouldn't go making inaccurate assumptions if I were you.” _

The snake, if it is possible, looks very shocked, “ _ You s-s-speak.” _

I don't respond, though, the snake is far too large for my tastes. How on Earth could I keep a snake like that in my dorm room? As I continue to observe the snakes, I notice I sign that states that the last tank contains a snakelet.

I glance into the tank and see a colorful snake that was barely six inches long. I glance around, checking for the store manager before asking the snake, “ _ What is your name?” _

The snake looks up at me and says, “ _ I am Jigsaw. You can call me Jig.” _

Jig was clearly male, going by his voice, and I decide I would love to purchase this snake, “ _ How would you like to live with me?” _

Jig nods his head, and I go in search of the storekeeper. I find him at the front desk.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” I say, “Can I have that snake in the far tank on the end?”

I hand him a galleon, the listed price for Jig, and he moves Jig into a traveling tank for me. He then gives me a piece of paper to subscribe for monthly shipping of food supplies. It is barely two minutes later I am again standing by Snape, with Jig’s tank in my hand.

“Interesting Choice,” he says, “A good one, though. Just be sure to keep track of him. The older students might not take kindly to your pet roaming around.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright. I think we will be making our way back to Hogwarts now.”


	9. Schoolwork and Arguments

**_Previously:_ **

_ “Interesting Choice,” he says, “A good one, though. Just be sure to keep track of him. The older students might not take kindly to your pet roaming around.” _

_ “Yes, sir.” _

_ “Alright. I think we will be making our way back to Hogwarts now.” _

 

When the Professor and I return to Hogwarts, he tells me to take a seat in his office so that he can speak with me. The request seems somewhat odd, but I comply out of gratitude for him taking me shopping.

Once seated, he says, “Considering you have missed the first two months of the school year, it stands to reason that you may be behind on the schoolwork that you were not here to perform. Much of this you could receive help from your classmates; however, in my class, you will need to practice the potions, which you will be unable to do outside of my classroom. Therefore, I have decided that you will come to my office every Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday until you are caught up. During this time, which I will specify for you in written form at a later date, I will ensure you are caught up with your year mates at potions, as well as assist you in all other classes that you need additional assistance on. I would recommend asking a classmate how far in your school books they have covered so that you could complete the reading to be better prepared.”

“Yes sir,” I reply, seeing the sense in such a plan.

“Good,” he states, “then, you may return to whatever it is you plan to do. Watch for an owl, the Wizarding World’s method of communication, which I shall send to you for further information regarding our meetings.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you,” I say before leaving the room.

I start walking towards the Slytherin dormitory to unpack my school supplies. In order to avoid becoming lost,  _ again _ , I follow landmarks that I recognized from the way to Snape’s office. It doesn't take as long as it did this morning, for which I am incredibly grateful.

When I walk into the common room I see Theo still sitting in the same chair that he was in when I left. Obviously, he must have left at some point to eat breakfast, seeing as it is now 10:30, but nonetheless there he is. Draco is noticeably more alert than he was this morning, which isn't saying much because he was out cold this morning. He is sitting up on a couch and chatting animatedly with Blaise.

I start walking over to where the three boys are seated. When I reach them, Theo looks at me in exasperation, but the other two boys are too engrossed in their argument about Quidditch teams to notice me.

Theo rolls his eyes to me and says, “Thank goodness you're here to save me. They've been at it since nine o'clock this morning. Tracey threw in the towel around an hour ago, leaving me to mediate between the two of them.”

I give Blaise and Draco an amused look before asking, “Have they been arguing about Quidditch all this time?”

“No. The topic keeps changing. Quidditch. Grades. Food. Anything you can think of really. I swear though they must have had this same argument  _ three times _ this morning already.”

I chuckle at his exasperated reaction to the other boys, and at the fact that neither of said boys has yet realized I am here.

“So,” he says, “How did your trip to Diagon Alley go?”

I hold up a drawstring bag I had been carrying on my bag and explain, “It was fine. I've put all my purchases into this bag that has an expandable charm on it. Now that I think about it, do you think you could let me know how far you've covered in the various classes?”

I realize he needs a distraction from the argument, and I figure that he must be interested in books since he seems to spend a good deal of time reading. Plus, I’ll be able to figure out something I need to know while doing it.

“You bet I can. You got your books?” he questions. I reach into my bag and grab out all my school books. He reaches into his bag and grabs out some random scraps of paper, before he continues, “Here. I can just mark your books at the point where we left off in each class.”

“Alright. Thanks, Theo.”

As he marks a few of the pages in my books, I turn an ear to the conversation behind me which seems to finally be coming to an end.

“... think now would be a good time to go poke around the grounds?” I hear Blaise saying.

“Ah-ha! You concede my point!” Draco shouts in victory. Some of the room’s other occupants give him odd glances.

“I most  _ certainly _ did not. I just reckon we can call a truce,” Blaise retorts, “For now.”

“Fine. Deal. Hey Theo, do you want to- Oh. Hi, Skyler  _ so _ did  _ not _ see you there.”

I smirk and say, “Yeah you seemed quite into your  _ debate _ .”

Draco’s face flushes and Blaise laughs at the look on his face.

“ _ Anyways _ ,” Draco says, regaining control of his face, “Do you guys want to join us on an expedition around the grounds?”

I consider it for a minute, but I decide to instead go to the library to get a start on the studies I have to make up. I tell the boys as much, and the three of them head out to explore. Theo only agreed to go because the other boys promised they were done arguing.

I run up to the girls’ dorm and put my supplies, other than my books and wand, in my trunk before hiding it under my bed. I organize my books in my bag, before pulling the curtains around the bed and changing into my robes. I slide my wand into its sleeve in my robes, and I am about to start making my way to the library when Tracey walks in.

“Skyler!” she says, excitedly, “You're back. Where are you headed?”

“I'm going to the library to start catching up on the reading I've missed so far,” I reply.

“Oh. That’s fun. I’ll walk you there. I'm heading that way anyways to find Terry Boot. We’re working on a charms assignment together, and we have to meet in some classroom. I bet she knows where it is.”

We walk to the library. Tracey’s constant chatter fills the silence, and I listen to her intently. I learn a great deal about her. She has two younger siblings. An eight-year-old boy and a three-year-old girl. Her mother is a healer at St Mungo's (I'm assuming it is some kind of wizarding hospital) and her father is a muggle who works as a doctor. She also explains the prejudice of some pure-bloods towards Muggle-borns and half-bloods.

Soon, we reach the library. I find myself actually feeling disappointed to be leaving Tracey’s presence behind, but I shake the feeling away and we say our goodbyes.

When I enter the library, I realize there are a lot more people there than I expected. Every single table has someone sitting at it. I do a quick scan, hoping Harry might be there or something. He isn't, but I do spot the next best thing.

Hermione.

She is sitting at a table by herself, and I take a deep breath and approach her table.

“Can I sit here?” I ask.

She looks up, startles and answers, nodding, “Yes. You can definitely sit here. Are you working on something specific? Because if you need help catching up on the things we have worked on so far, I can definitely help you. I've read all our school books several times already, and I'd love to help you with it,” she pauses her rapid speech, quite suddenly, “Sorry. I'm rambling.”

She looks worried that I’ll be angry at her or something, and since she is one of Harry’s friends, I decide to ease her worries, “It’s fine,” and even though it doesn't particularly interest me to have someone practice schoolwork with me, I tell her that her help is appreciated.

We spend about an hour working through all the material that the other students had apparently covered. And, even though I probably could have figured out most of the tips she gave me for myself, she did have a few useful ideas that I might not have thought of. Particularly, her tips on how to stay awake during History of Magic class. It is an alertness spell, which really does sound helpful. She even helps me practice the spell a few times. 

After an hour though, we hear someone shout, probably louder than is strictly a good idea in the library, “Hermione.”

Hermione and I look up to see Ron coming in. Madam Prince shoots Ron a sharp look, before he continues in a slightly quieter look, “Have you seen Harry? I've been looking everywhere for him.”

Hermione shakes her head and is about to reply when Ron notices me. 

“What are you doing hanging around with a nasty, no-good, Slytherin?” he demands.

I am about to retort with a sarcastic response, when Hermione hisses, “Skyler is not nasty. We've been hanging out for an hour and she has been nothing but kind to me.”

I think that might be a slight exaggeration. I had snapped at her a few times while we were studying. I don't correct her, though. The sight of Ron’s red face makes me too pleased to do so. She does go up a few points on my respect chart. I didn't think she would have had the guts to stand up to him like that.

“Wait until Harry hears you've been hanging out with Slytherins,” he threatens to Hermione.

I can't help it; I snort in amusement. He turns his angry face to me and glares. It’s a rather pathetic glare if I'm honest and it only makes me snort again. I say in a patronizingly slow voice as if speaking to a young child, “Let me get this straight. You're going to tell you friend that Hermione has been hanging out with his twin sister, who he introduced to her, and you expect him to be angry. I'm afraid you must have knocked your head or something.”

My voice is low and quiet, to not disturb Madam Prince, but when Ron growls loudly any tries to lunge at me, she shouts, “Mister Weasley! Please leave the library at once. You are disrupting the silence.”

He stalks out in an unimpressive manner, and Hermione and I decide that it would be a good time to go and find some lunch. 

Before we walk into the Great Hall doors, Hermione says, “How about after lunch you meet up with Harry and I and we can show you around like he promised? You can bring some of your friends so that we can meet them too, maybe?”

I smile and reply, “That sounds wonderful Hermione. I’ll see you after lunch.”

We walk through the doors, together. The Hall’s occupants seem surprised to see us together, probably because our houses are meant to be rivals. I roll my eyes. It is pretty foolish to encourage animosity when we are going to school with the same people we will one day have to work with.

Hermione and I go our separate ways to our tables. As I sit down next to Theo, Pansy leans over and growls, “Why were you with that Gryffindor Mudblood? You're ruining Slytherin's reputation.”

I nearly roll my eyes at her as I explain in a low monotone voice, “ _ Well _ , I am fairly confident that the Muggle-born I was speaking with has better marks than the likes of you. What does that make you, if you can’t make a higher score than her, even though you've been raised in the wizarding world?”

In a voice, raised in anger, Pansy snaps, “You don't know what you're talking about. You shouldn't talk about what you don't understand.”

I'm about to make a snarky comment about a united house front, but Marcus Flint beats me to it, “Parkinson. If you can't master the Slytherin skill of subtlety, then I recommend you keep your petty arguments in the confines of your dormitory.”

Her face flushes bright red, and she turns dutifully away from me. I turn to my friends who are covering their smirks with their glasses, hands, and food respectively. 

Remembering Hermione’s offer for after lunch I ask, “Do you guys want to explore the castle with Harry, Hermione, and I after lunch?”

Tracey and Theo voice their consent instantly. Draco and Blaise hesitate, and share a brief look, before saying, “Sure.”

I grin at them, and they grin back. I sure hope they all get along.


	10. Draco and Ron

**_Previously:_ **

_ Remembering Hermione’s offer for after lunch I ask, “Do you guys want to explore the castle with Harry, Hermione, and I after lunch?” _

_ Tracey and Theo voice their consent instantly. Draco and Blaise hesitate, and share a brief look, before saying, “Sure.” _

_ I grin at them, and they grin back. I sure hope they all get along. _

 

Lunch was, in a word, uneventful. Draco and Blaise bickered, which I am beginning to realize is normal behavior for them. After lunch, the five of us go to meet up with Harry. I can't tell whether or not my friends are pleased with going to hang out with him, but knowing they are doing it for me makes my heart feel warm. 

I shake that feeling away though as we go out of the doors in the Hall, and I see Harry standing up with his friends to head out too. 

My friends and I are waiting in the hallway when Harry, Hermione, and  _ Ron. _ I'm not quite sure yet how I feel about him. I do, however. think he has an opinion. His irritated glare directed at the five of us kind of gives away his feelings.

“Hey Skyler,” Harry says smiling at me. He then hesitates a moment, before turning to my Draco, Blaise, Theo, and Tracey, holding out his hand, and saying, “Nice to meet you. I'm Harry.”

Draco’s eyes narrow in confusion as he drawls, “Yes… I know.”

“I'm introducing myself as your friend’s sister rather than a potential enemy.”

While Draco visibly juggles with this response, Theo reaches out, grabbing Harry’s hand and saying, “Nice to meet you. I'm Theo.”

I shoot him a grateful smile. Draco, Blaise, and Tracey follow Theo’s lead, but when Theo offers his hand to Ron, the good feelings go away, because Ron’s handshake is anything but polite. He slaps his hand into Theo’s and scowls at him the entire time.

I decide to ignore him. I figure he must just be incredibly prejudiced against Slytherins. 

“Um…” Harry seems to hesitate before saying, “Let’s go explore then.”

We start our walk around the school. Every time we pass something interesting Harry points it out and explains what it is. Theo offers his input as well, and occasionally, Hermione and Tracey pause from their conversation, where they appear to be becoming quite good friends to give their two (or four I guess) cents. Ron, Draco, and Blaise do not, however, give me any information.

The reason: Draco and Ron seem to have both decided that the other is the worst scum on earth. I say this because they spend the entire time arguing. And, I don't mean friendly bickering like Draco and Blaise are so fond of but full out glaring and insulting. 

Speaking of Blaise though, the reason for his lack of contribution is that he seems to find an unhealthy amount of pleasure from listening to those two argue. Every once and a while he’ll give his opinion on a matter, but usually, he just stays out of it and snickers at the two of them.

Harry is explaining to me what they saw was in the third-floor corridor, when I hear Ron make a loud yelp of indignation. We turn to the three to find Ron, face red, holding his wand in Draco’s face. 

Theo and I exchange a look of exasperation, and Harry looks a little put out at the behavior of the two. I consider stepping in, but before I can make a decision, Hermione and Tracey take a step towards them.

“What do you guys think you're doing?” Hermione asks.

Before the boys can answer, though it was more of a rhetorical question, Tracey continues, “You're acting like doofuses. The both of you.”

“With all your childish bickering and pulling out your wand, goodness Ronald.”

“I thought you guys were eleven, not five.”

I cover my amused smirk with my hand, and Harry and Theo do the same. Blaise isn't so composed and actually starts to snicker aloud.

Hermione turns to him and says, “And you.”

Blaise’s face turns red, and Tracey continues, “Encouraging them, with your attention and egging them on.”

It occurs to me that despite some major differences in objectives and things they consider important, their defining personality traits are rather similar.

Draco stalks away from Ron to go and talk to Blaise. Ron just pouts and snaps, “Not that it was any of your business.”

She doesn't hear him though as she’s already gone back to her conversation with Tracey. 

Theo and Harry are talking to each other and I turn away from Ron to go and talk to them too. They are both laughing when I catch up to them, and they explain to me that they couldn't get over the faces of the guys when Tracey and Hermione were lecturing them.

When they mention it, I realize the boys’ reactions really were fairly amusing. They all initially looked like wounded dogs, then they flashed to anger, and then a mixture of shame and embarrassment, like a deer caught in a headlight. I snicker a bit to myself too.

Harry asks Theo if he knows what their problems with each other are.

An odd expression comes over Theo’s face. Kind of like confusion mixed with disgust. 

For explanation, he begins, “In the wizarding world there are three different blood types. Pureblood. Half-blood. And, Muggleborn. Muggleborns are witches or wizards with two muggle parents. That would be like Hermione or your mom. Half-bloods usually have one wizarding parent and one muggle parent, like Tracey. But, you are both half-bloods too because you only have two out of four grandparents who were magical. Purebloods have four magical grandparents. Draco, Blaise, Weasley, and I are all purebloods.

“Now the reason that Draco and Weasley have such an issue with each other is that there are different types of purebloods. Some of the older wizarding families don't think that muggleborns are deserving of being allowed into Hogwarts. Some of the more extreme families, like the Parkinsons, are even degrading of half-bloods. I know it sounds like they are totally wrong, and I agree in most senses, even if my family wouldn't,” he mutters the last part of the sentence, so I figure I wasn't really meant to hear it, “But, they do have a reason. Most muggleborns come from muggle families and don't understand wizarding customs. Obviously, they should not have been required to right away, but most don't even make an effort to educate themselves to our customs, which is the main reason for conflict between them.

“Now, some families, the Weasley’s for instance, have a more open view on muggles, which is fine, but many other families are irritated by their apparent disregard for the customs as well. Not only that, but several of these families believe that all Slytherins will automatically turn out evil. This only strengthens the rivalry between the families. Make sense?”

Harry and I nod, though mine is more confident than his appears.

I make a quick glance around and stop walking. Harry and Theo turn to look at me and seem to realize why I stopped.

Draco, Blaise, and Ron have all left. Hermione turns to us and says, “They've been gone about five minutes. They tried to tell you they were leaving, but you guys didn't hear them.”

My face turns skeptical in confusion, as I ask, “They left?  _ Together _ ?”

“No,” Tracey replies, “They all went to get dinner, but they weren't all walking together.”

Harry nods and says, “Should we head back too?”

We all agree and the five of us start to make our way back to the Great Hall. When we get there we all go our separate ways.

When Theo, Tracey, and I arrive, Draco is in the middle of ranting to Blaise, “... the most irritating person I've ever met. I can't believe it. He pulled his wand out, on me. Me!”

It is clear from the start that he’s talking about Ron, and though Draco hasn't noticed it yet, Blaise’s answers of, “Mm…” every other sentence are definitely mocking. He continues on for about an hour. I'm not sure how many times, and ways he repeats each idea, but he is definitely pretty upset because talking for an hour about anything would be brutally painful to me.

Eventually, we all finish eating and convince Draco to stop his ranting and come to the Common Room, so that they can teach me how to play some game called Exploding Snap. It sounded more interesting than Draco’s rant, so I agree to play.

We spend awhile on that and a few other wizarding games, and before long it is time for bed.

I lie in bed for several hours awake, because I am thinking about my foster parents. I wonder if they even care that I'm gone, or if they reported me missing. I shudder as I think of how Joe would react if I showed back up at their house. Those, not so pleasant thoughts, cause me to fall into a restless sleep, filled with nightmares of my previous punishments, but this time, it wasn't just me. Harry was there, and my friends. He hurt them too, and it was all my fault.


	11. Admissions and Pranks

**_Previously:_ **

_ I lie in bed for several hours awake, because I am thinking about my foster parents. I wonder if they even care that I'm gone, or if they reported me missing. I shudder as I think of how Joe would react if I showed back up at their house. Those, not so pleasant thoughts, cause me to fall into a restless sleep, filled with nightmares of my previous punishments, but this time, it wasn't just me. Harry was there, and my friends. He hurt them too, and it was all my fault. _

 

I wake up early. Since I got here, my nightmares have become slightly worse. I don't have them every night, but when I do, I usually can't go back to sleep. Luckily, I am well accustomed to sleeping in low quantities because I often had to do so at my foster house. 

I climb out of bed and dress for the day. It is only five o'clock, but I will need to be in Professor Snape’s office at 8:30 for our weekly Saturday lesson. I have learned a lot so far. 

The professor is actually a really good teacher. Not only am I sure I am almost caught up in all of my classes, but I have a slight suspicion that he may already have taught me some things that weren't usually taught in classes. I could be wrong of course, but something about the fact that some of the spells’ only purposes were playing pranks, made me think they wouldn't have been willingly taught by teachers. To be honest I am surprised Professor Snape had taught me some of these spells.

I grab a book that I have yet to read and go down to the Common Room, Jig wrapped around my wrist, still asleep. I sit in the same chair as every morning and start to read. I have been doing research on the connection of minds by a bond to try to figure out why I have my visions, but so far, I have had minimal luck. I found mention of souls being bonded at birth. Twins, of course. Like Harry and I. But, all the records show that both twins could speak to each other through their minds. There was no mention of visions like what I have. It could be because all of those twins grew up together, and Harry and I didn't, but I really have no clue.

Around five-thirty o'clock Theo comes down. It is the same every morning. When he comes down he always looks slightly distressed. Usually, he and I talk for a bit then sit side by side on the chair. It is a pretty big chair, and we are both small enough to fit on it. Neither of us has actually put it in words, but I am sure we both have nightmares of something. We come close to the topic sometimes, but neither one of us really want to ask the other why. It is probably because we, or I at least, don't want the other to ask about our own night terrors. 

This morning when he comes down though, his eyes are red. He usually takes the time to compose himself before he comes down, but I think his nightmares have been getting worse recently. The last couple of mornings he has seemed more upset than usual.

I stand up when I see the red. I'm not sure why, but I feel closer to Theo then my other friends; he is like a second brother to me. 

“Are you alright, Theo?” I ask him quietly.

He takes a deep breath and shudders, as he says, “Not really.”

I reach him, and he and I go and sit. I hesitate for a moment, but my caring for Theo leads me to say in the end, “Do you-,” I pause and take a deep breath to convince myself to say the words, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He looks deep in thought for a minute, and I figure that he will say no, so it surprises me when he offers a deal.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me what happened to you after.”

I think about that for a minute. Of course, the deal makes sense to me; he wants to make sure I won't tell anyone what he says. If he knows one of my secrets, I obviously wouldn't tell, or he would too. In the end, I agree.

“When I was younger,” he starts, “my mother died. I was upset, of course, but I was only five so I really don't understand what was going on. My dad, though, took it really hard. He became distant. Without him to talk to, I started hanging out at a muggle park near my house. My father wouldn't have approved, --he doesn't much care for muggles-- but I was just desperate for company, so I went there. I spent a lot of time there, sometimes I even stayed overnight. Someone must have noticed at some point, that I never came with a parent, and one day, when it got dark, someone grabbed me. They hit me over the head with something hard, and when I woke up, I was tied to a pole.

“They weren't very smart kidnappers. They wanted money, and they hadn't even taken the time to identify my guardian. They asked me a lot of questions to try to figure it out, but I didn't tell them. It wasn't because I was being brave. It was because I was too upset to say anything. They hit me a few times, but it just made me more upset. Inevitably, my accidental magic lashed out. It didn't hurt them much, but it made them scared of me, and it made them curious. They wanted to find out what I could do. I'm not ready to tell you what they did while I was there, but I was with them for seven months before my dad found me. You should have seen the guys when he was done with them.

“The ministry obliviated them, and they didn't arrest my father because even they felt it was justified after they saw the state I was in. Anyways, It took me about two years before I spoke to anyone or did anything but hide in my room and read books. My dad always brought new ones for me, but I was scared of everyone, including him. Eventually, I started talking again, but I still haven't really gotten over it. I've never really talked about any of this before. You can't tell anyone.”

I hesitantly put my arm around his shoulder. I have never comforted someone before, but he leans into my support, so I figure I did something right. I say, “Never. I promise.”

He gives me a faint smile.

I start to prepare myself to fulfill my half of the deal.

“All my life I've grown up with muggles. I lived in an orphanage until I was nearly five, and I was adopted. I hated to think of them as family, though, so I used to tell myself they were just my foster family; it made it seem less permanent. Their names were Joe and Josephine, and they had a son named Dulcis,” Theo looked like he wanted to laugh at this, but didn't want to interrupt me, “Yeah, I know means sweet. He really wasn't. They were nice at first until I did accidental magic about a month after I got there. They were terrified, but they were angrier than they were scared. That was the first time Joe hit me. It wasn't serious. A slap or two. For a while that was it. A slap or two, withholding meals or locking me in the attic, it was my room, or the basement.

“It didn't start getting serious,” he looks like he wants to argue, but thankfully he doesn't, “until I was about six and he shoved me into a wall in the attic that had a nail sticking from it; it’s how I got this,” I gesture to my scar, “After that, things got worse. The punishments got harsher and it was easier to set him off too.

“I don't think you would, but you can't repeat any of this. I don't want to have to go back, and I implied to Professor Snape that I was living on the streets before I came here,” I say, looking at him pleadingly.

“I won't let them send you back there. Ever,” he says determinedly, “and you're right; I would never tell anyone.”

He hugs me, and we both lean on each other for support while we start to read. Eventually, Theo falls asleep, and I think I must too because I wake up to Draco reaching out his hand to shake me awake.

I sit up fast in alarm. Too fast, apparently, since my head rams into Draco’s. 

He jumps back in surprise, rubbing his head, and says, “Merlin’s Beard, Skyler.”

“Sorry,” I mutter, rubbing my head as well.

He shrugs it off and says, “Anyway, your lesson with Snape starts in an hour, so I thought you might want to get up now.”

“Yeah,” I say, standing up in alarm, “you're absolutely right.”

I quickly grab my stuff and run to the Great Hall to grab a quick bite to eat. Even though it is 7:30 there aren't many people up because it is the weekend. After I eat I make my way to Professor Snape’s office.

Jig is still fast asleep around my wrist. He barely fits, since he is so small, but he is able to stay on.

I make it to the Professor’s office five minutes before my lesson is to start, as always. When he tells me to come in his voice sounds irritated about something. 

I walk in and sit down where I usually do. Professor Snape takes a minute to compose himself before coming over and putting a book on my desk. It is  _ Quidditch Through the Ages. _ I give him a quizzical look.

He says, in a rough voice, “Would you give this to your brother? And, while you're at it, please notify him that the next time he wants his book back, he should avoid walking into the staffroom without express permission from a teacher.”

Oh. That does explain why he was so upset.

“Yes sir,” I reply.

I put the book away, and he sits down and tells me he will be teaching me a color changing spell,  _ Mutatios _ _ Coloris, _ and the potion with the same effect. These are some of those things that definitely weren't listed in any of our first-year spellbooks, but I figure he must have some reason for teaching them.

After I finish making the potion, which he explained need only be consumed after adding a piece of what is wanted to change, and something of the color it is wanted to be, the professor moves on to teaching me the spell. It isn't an overly difficult spell, but it takes a lot of concentration to ensure that the correct object turns the correct color. 

The first few times I try I end up turning an entire wall behind the chair, my target, purple, and I  _ might _ actually have been trying to turn it yellow. Eventually, I do manage the spell in its intended way, and Professor Snape calls an end to our lesson.

He says, “Well done, Miss Potter. Now, as homework of a sort, I would like you to spend some time practicing this spell. Today would likely be a good time to do so. I do believe there will be plenty of … targets at the Quidditch match this morning.”

I smile, “Of course, sir. Shall I practice with the conditional spells as well?”

Last week the professor had taught me how to make the spells I cast only occur when something else happens first, such as speaking a word or an event.

“That should work perfectly, but of course I have no idea where you would have learned either piece of spellwork,” he replies with an innocent expression.

“Of course,” I reply with only the barest trace of sarcasm.

His eyes twitch a bit, in an expression that vaguely looks like he is rolling his eyes, “Get out of here,” he says fondly.

I'm not sure why exactly, but I feel like he really is fond of me. I wouldn't know why, but I would guess it is because of his relationship with my mother.

“Bye, sir.”

“Bye,” he says as I'm walking out the door. Then, quieter he says, when he thinks I am out of earshot, “Skyler.”

I smile all the way as I head back to the Common Room.

_ “Are we?”  _ Jig asks from my wrist.

“ _ Are we, what?”  _ I ask back. I swear his name is perfect, everything he says puzzles me.

_ “Going to change people’s colors?” _

_ “Oh, yes. Of course, we are. It will be very amusing Jig. Don't you think?” _

_ “Can we check it on one of your friends first?” _

I roll my eyes at how excited he sounds. Even though he said “one of,” I know he means Draco. Ever since I showed him to Draco, he decided he hated him. I'm guessing it has something to do with the fact that Draco called him some unkind words when he saw him probably because Jig scared him to death.

_ “Sure Jig. If it makes you happy,”  _ I say.

_ “Thank you. Oh, it’ll be funny, so funny.” _

_ “What condition shall I use? I could make his hair change color every time he touches it.” _

_ “Yes. Do that.” _

So it was decided. I quickly make my way back to the Common Room. It is only 10 o'clock and when I get to the Common Room, Blaise and Draco are asleep on the couch, and only Theo is there.

Perfect.

I sit next to Theo and whisper my plan to him. He smiles happily. 

“ _ Mutatios _ _ Coloris Tantum,”  _ I mutter pointing my wand at Draco and concentrating on a series of colors. A slight shimmer passes through Draco’s hair, but otherwise, nothing happens.

“Should we get out of here before he wakes up?” I ask.

Draco rubs his hand through his hair in his sleep, and it changes to bright pink.

“Yeah,” says Theo, “that would probably be smart.”


	12. Quidditch and Quirrell

**_Previously:_ **

_ “Should we get out of here before he wakes up?” I ask. _

_ Draco rubs his hand through his hair in his sleep, and it changes to bright pink. _

_ “Yeah,” says Theo, “that would probably be smart.” _

 

When Draco, Blaise, and Tracey show up at the Quidditch field at eleven, Theo and I can hardly keep from laughing. Draco’s hair is now sporting a dark red color, which makes him look like he is supporting the Gryffindors instead of our own team, and he looks very upset. Blaise just looks amused, which is normal for him, and Tracey looks like she is trying to decide between being disapproving and amused.

I put a confused expression on my face when I catch Draco’s eyes, and say, “What happened to you?”

In an irritated voice, he replies, “Well, when I woke up, I didn't notice anything was wrong. Then, Blaise woke up and told me my hair was changing colors.”

“Hold on,” Blaise interrupts, “You skipped the part where it was changing because you were grooming your hair,” turning to Theo and me, he continues, “Every time he touched his hair it changed color. I've never even heard of a spell that can do that.”

“Me neither,” I say in a serious voice. There is no way I'm going to admit to this. Blaise looks at Theo who shrugs and shakes his head in a negative.

“Well,  _ somebody  _ better figure out how to fix it because no way I'm leaving it like this!” Draco shouts.

I do in fact know how to fix it. I intentionally didn't make the spell irreversible by normal reversal spells because this is Draco and not someone I dislike, and so he could fix it before I went to try it on someone else.

“Maybe you could try  _ finite incantatem _ . You know,  _ the reversal spell _ ,” I reply, in an only slightly mocking tone.

His face goes red, and he mumbles the countercurse. His hair turns back to its signature blonde color, and he sighs in relief. 

When the game starts, it all seems pretty normal to me. Or, as normal as a game can be when the players are on broomsticks. The person doing the announcing- Lee Jordan?- had some amusing commentary.

When Flint nearly knocks Harry off his broom, though, it makes me pretty upset. Considering the professor told me to practice, even though he probably meant on the Gryffindors, I mumble the spell under my breath to make Flint’s robes turn into Gryffindor colors.

The crowd and the players, Flint excluded, murmur in confusion. I catch Professor Snape looking at me. When he meets my eyes, he shakes his head, but he smiles so I assume he isn't really upset.

I turn my wand to the Gryffindors and put a conditional on them that will turn their robes green when the game ends.

One of the Slytherin players, Terence Higgs maybe, does the countercurse for Flint and the game continues. When the score is 20-10 Gryffindor, I notice that something seems to be wrong with Harry’s broom. 

Flint takes the time to score five more times; I really am liking him less and less. I, almost unconsciously, change his robes again. 

Meanwhile, though, I am watching Harry. His broom seems to be showing signs of being Jinxed so I look at the teachers, who are the only people who’d be capable of doing so. I notice Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape muttering and come to the conclusion that one of them must be performing the countercurse.

I point it out to Theo and tell him that I'm going to go do something about it. I stand up, but he pulls me back down.  
“Look,” he says pointing at the teachers’ seats, “Hermione is already dealing with it.”

He is right, of course. Hermione is coming that way quickly. She seems to knock Quirrell over, almost by accident, before setting Professor Snape on fire. I figure that she must not have noticed that Quirrell was also muttering. 

I sigh in relief when Harry regains control of his broom. He dives towards the ground after the snitch a few seconds later. Harry falls to the ground looking sick, but he simply spits out the snitch. 

Flint is outraged, but I am kind of pleased, and both teams are totally shocked when the Gryffindor team’s robes all turn green, except for Professor Snape who looks slightly proud, which makes me happy. I whisper a goodbye to Theo and sneak away, hoping to catch up to Harry.

I see him, Ron, and Hermione walking to Hagrid’s hut and decide that I will just wait for him when he leaves. The three of them leave about an hour later.

“Hey, Harry,” I call to him, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

The three of them turn and Harry says, “Yeah,” before turning to Ron and Hermione and saying, “You guys go on ahead. I’ll meet you in the common room later.”

Ron looks a bit annoyed, but Hermione grabs his arm before he can say something stupid and drags him away.

I rummage through my bag for his book, “Nice job, Harry,” I say.

“Thanks, Skyler,” he replies, “What are you looking for?”

I find the book and show it to him, “Professor Snape said to give this to you,” he takes the book, “He also says to remind you that you shouldn't walk into the staffroom without express permission from teachers.”

He blushes a bit and says, “Yeah. It probably wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done.”

I raise my eyebrows to say, ‘You think.’

He changes the subject, “You should be careful with Snape though Skyler. Hermione saw him jinxing my broom. She set his robes on fire so that he’d stop.”

“Well,” I drawl, “about that. It wasn't just him that was muttering. Quirrell was too. I saw him. When Hermione went to set Snape on fire, she knocked him over. I would guess that one of them was using the countercurse.”

“Quirrell, probably. Snape hates me.”

“Not true. He was friends with Mum.”

“Really.”

I nod and say, “Besides, Quirrell’s stutter is really fake. Sometimes it worsens randomly with no stressor, and other times it seems also nonexistent. He also varies in what sounds he stutters over.”

“Oh,” he says, “I hadn't noticed that. I’ll tell Ron and Hermione, so we can watch out for them both.”

“Good idea. See you later Harry.”  
“Bye Skyler.”

He hugs me, and I hug him back before we go our separate ways. I head to the Great Hall since my friends usually eat lunch around this time. 

I sit down next to Theo when I arrive. We talk for awhile before returning to the Common Room for homework and some games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry about how short it is, but I didn't feel like narrating the entire Quidditch match since I'm sure you've all read it already. :)


	13. People and Christmas

I wake up on a Wednesday morning to an empty dorm room. I am confused for a moment before I remember that it is Christmas and the middle of the Winter holidays, and most of the student body went home. There are only about twenty students still at Hogwarts. All of Slytherin, except me and a 4th-year boy left. Harry, the four Weasleys, Seamus Finnigan from Gryffindor are all here, and five Hufflepuffs, and six Ravenclaws.

I thought back to before the break started, a conversation I had with Theo.

_ “You could come stay with my dad and me,” he had said. _

_ I would've said yes, but thinking about Harry held me back, “Sorry, Theo. Just this year, I want to spend Christmas with Harry. He’s the only family I have left. Except for you guys of course.” _

Theo understood, of course, but I still miss him. I miss all my friends, even Draco, who I am still upset with for what he said about people staying over the holidays. It irritated me, still does in fact, because he doesn't realize that not everyone’s homelife is as good as his. I’ll forgive him eventually, as soon as he figures out why I am upset. Granted there’s no guarantee how long that will take.

I walk down to the Common Room and mutter a give a greeting to Dai, the fourth year. Then, I walk out of my Common Room to make my way to the Gryffindor Common Room. Professor Dumbledore decided that, since the passwords could be changed, we could all exchange passwords during the holidays to visit one another.

When I reach the Fat Lady’s portrait and tell her the password, I am wondering whether or not this was the best idea. I feel as though voluntarily spending time with Ron, who hasn't become any more fond of me in the two months I’ve been here, isn't the wisest choice of action. Regardless of how I feel now, though, it’s too late to change my mind. I already asked the house-elves to put my gifts- not that I was expecting many- in the Gryffindor Common Room rather than my own. Plus, I promised Harry I’d come.

I did invite Dai, but he said that he’d rather stay in the Slytherin Common Room. I didn't push the invitation.

As I enter the Gryffindor Common Room, I notice that no one is awake yet. It crosses my mind that all houses are probably not on as strict of a wake-up schedule as Slytherin is. While I am pondering whether or not I should leave and come back or sit down, two pairs of footsteps pound down the stairs.

I look up to see Fred and George Weasley coming down the staircase.

I haven't yet spoken much to the two of them, but they seem to be rather adept at pranking, which is something I myself take pleasure in.

“Merry Christmas,” I say, “I'm Skyler.”

“Morning, Skyler,” says one twin.

“I'm Fred.”

“And I'm George.”

I start looking at the two for ways to tell them apart. From what I can tell, Fred seems to be slightly taller, only a half centimeter or so. His facial features also appear closer together.

I smile and say, “Pleasure.”

The twin's grin and Fred says, “Believe me.”

“The pleasure is all ours, Miss Potter.”

“Because there aren't many people that can.”

“Impress us with pranks they perform.”

I plaster an innocently confused expression on my face, “I'm sorry, would you enlighten me as to what you are talking about?” Not a lie. Not totally. A diversion.

They share a quick look of doubt before Fred smiles and says, “Oh, that was good.”

“You almost had us.”

My lips twitch into a grin, surprising me. Usually, my emotions aren't so expressive. I shake off the worry that I'm letting down my guard. There really isn't a risk with these two. That thought shocks me too. I barely even know these two, and already I am trusting them with my feelings. The grin slips from my face.

“Skyler,” I shake from my musing, to look at the concerned faces of the twins. George continues, “You alright?”  
“Fine,” I say, quickly.

“Alright,” Fred says, “So about those pranks.”

My lips twitch slightly, but I keep a full grin from coming to my face, “Which pranks would you be speaking of? The one you pulled on McGonagall the other day?”

My misdirection works for keeping them from my secrets for now as their expressions turn flabbergasted.

“How,” says Fred.

“Did you know.”

“About that?”

I smirk and say, “Ah. So it was you? I had thought so, but I wasn't sure until now. Thanks for that.”

“Y- You,” George stutters.

“How.”

“Fred, we just got played by a first-year.”

Both twins stutter, and I interject, “A  _ Slytherin _ first-year.”

The horror on their faces makes my smirk grow, and they say together, “That’s so much worse.”

“Well, really,” I say, “Since Slytherins are known for being cunning, it really isn't that surprising for one to have the ability to trick someone else into giving them information. Why do you think the hat put me there?”

Fred and George are about to answer when a bitter voice from the staircase grumbles, “Because you're evil like all Slytherins.”

I look up into the face of Ron Weasley.  _ Wonderful _ .

I am about to retort when George says in a scolding voice, “Ronald.”

“You’re being rude.”

“All Slytherins aren’t evil.”

“Yeah. Remember Great Grandma Prewett.”

“She was a Slytherin.”

“And she was the sweetest lady ever.”

“She was always sneaking us candy and cookies.”

Ron scowls, “That's one out of a million.”

Fred and George shake their head at their younger brother and say, “Why don’t you go wake up Harry, so we can open our presents?”

Fred says mockingly, “Oh, and behave yourself Ronald; it’s Christmas.”

Ron doesn't look happy, but he goes back upstairs anyways. Fred and George roll their eyes and George says to me, “Sorry about that.”

“He’s a bit prejudiced.”

I shrug and say, “It’s no big deal. I've met plenty of people like him. You learn to deal with it.”

It’s true. I mean Joe, Josephine, Duke, and all his friends treated me the same way Ron does. Actually, they probably treated me worse. Not that I'd tell anyone other than Theo about them. I don't think I could even tell Harry. The problem isn't trust. It’s just that I don't want people to look at me like I'm fragile because I'm not. I don't want to be judged on my past; I've left all of that behind me, and I'm never going back.

Fred and George look mildly concerned, but a voice on the stairs stops them from saying anything, “Skyler!”

I look up with I smile and say, “Hey, Harry.”

He runs down the stairs and pulls me into a hug. I tense for a moment, then relax into his embrace. 

He releases me and exclaims, “Merry Christmas.”

“Same,” I say.

Ron says, “We should open our gifts now.”

I look up to see a scowl on his face. I wonder if that is his permanent expression, or if he’s capable of expressing other emotions.

Harry doesn't appear to have noticed this and says happily, “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Ron, Fred, George, and Percy, who comes down shortly after we start, dig right into their gifts, but Harry and I spend more time on it. It appears he is just as surprised about having gifts as I am.

From Tracey, I receive Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and other assorted candies, and Hermione gives me a Muggle book series called _ Percy Jackson and the Olympians _ by Rick Riordan _. _ Likely, she did this because I told her of my love for story books. Blaise gave me Chocolate Frogs and a set of Gobstones, a game I have yet to learn. Draco’s gift makes me smile. Not the chess set part of it, but the sincere apology. I really did expect it to take him much longer. It read:

_ Dear Skyler, _

_ I'm really sorry about what I said before the holidays. I’ll admit that at first, I wasn't sure why you were upset, but I asked my Mom why that might've been, and she explained that not everyone has great homes to go to like I do. I know I don't really know anything about where or how you lived before Hogwarts, but I'm sorry if I insulted you in any way by my response. _

_ Merry Christmas, _

_ Draco _

I make a mental note to write him a letter in return after I return to my dormitory and open Theo’s gift. Inside I find several books regarding mental connections between twins. I guess it really was a good idea to tell Theo about my dilemma. Inside Harry’s gift, I find magical art supplies, which supposedly change to the exact tone of each basic color, that the user wants. He has also given me a handwritten piece of parchment that is titled, “Guide to Living with the Dursleys.”

I look up at him, slightly confused, to see him looking back at me, too. He says, “Just a guide of things that tick them off. You know. For when you come to stay with me this summer,” he pauses before adding hastily, “If you want to of course.”

“I'd love too,” I say smiling, before adding, “If the professors and the Dursleys let me of course.”

He smiles back at me.

I see that he is about to open my gift, and I watch, hoping he will like it. I've never had anyone to give gifts to before, so I'm worried about how all my friends will react to my gifts. I gave Blaise and Draco wand holsters since they had been speaking recently about how cool they would be. For Tracey and Hermione, I bought magical planners. They are supposed to react to the user’s magic and use it to record assignments and things that have to be done. I got Theo several muggle school books that he asked for. Most of them were scientific books.

Harry, holding the necklace chain I had gotten him, gasps, “Woah, Skyler. This is awesome.”

I smile and explain, “Any person, friend or family, that you become close to will get a charm on the chain that represents them.”

“It’s great.”

He hugs me and I hug him back.

He goes to open the rest of his gifts, and the ones that stand out to me are the 50-pence piece from the Dursley, which he gave to Ron, a handmade wooden flute from Hagrid, and a jumper made for him by Mrs. Weasley.

He has one more gift and when he goes to open it he pauses and says, “It’s addressed to both of us.”

I look up slightly surprised and walk closer to him. He opens the attached letter and reads, “ _ Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to the both of you.  _ They didn't sign it.”

I puzzle a moment to try to think who that wording reminds me of before realizing it sounds rather a lot like Dumbledore. I can't think why our father would have left his cloak with Dumbledore, or why he didn't sign the letter, though. I consider if I should tell Harry of my suspicions, but I decide that if Dumbledore didn't tell us he probably intended for us not to know.

Ron suddenly exclaims impatiently, “Well, come on then. Open it.”

Hesitantly, Harry pulled the wrapping off of the parcel, and a silver, watery looking cloak fell to the ground where it lay gleaming.

The Weasleys all look at the cloak in shock. I reach down to pick it up. It feels strange. It was smooth, very smooth. Kind of like someone dropped a piece of silk in water, and the silk absorbed the water. 

Ron says, “It’s an Invisibility Cloak. I'm sure it is - try it on.”

I don't really feel much like having everyone stare at me while I try on this cloak, so I grab the edges and throw it over Harry. He disappears.

“It is,” says George.  
“Wow,” says Fred.

Harry struggles to uncover his head. When he does he looks down and gasps in shock, “I'm invisible.”

“I'd give  _ anything  _ for one of these.  _ Anything, _ ” Ron says, but Harry gets an odd expression on his face, and Ron adds, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Harry says quickly. I tune into his thoughts and hear his pondering over the cloak having belonged to our father. 

Breakfasts and lunch are both served in the Common Room, so by the time dinner rolls around, I've had my share of being around people for one day. It’s annoying because when I try to just read my book or something, someone will pull me back into the conversation. Then, inevitably, Ron will pick an argument with me over something, which I usually try to avoid making him too angry, but sometimes I just can't help it.

When we head down to dinner, the feast is magnificent. The decorations that have been put up, the food on the table, and the wizard crackers were amazing, but when I make it back to the Slytherin Common Room at the end of the day, I can't say I'm not relieved.

I never had anyone to talk to before coming to Hogwarts, and being in Slytherin, most people recognize when I don't want to talk, but these Gryffindors just want to talk to me about everything, and it’s draining, so when I walk into the Common Room, Dai takes one look at me and says, “Not used to hyperactive Gryffindors, Skyler.”

I yawn and shake my head, “Too much talking.”

He chuckles and says, “Go to sleep. If you don't get up by 8:15, I’ll come get you. I know how exhausting Gryffindors can be.”

“Thanks, Dai,” I say with another yawn.

“No problem, kid. Now go get to sleep.”

I walk up the stairs and to my dorm room. I change into m pajamas, lay on my bed, and I'm out like a light.


	14. Comfort and Confusion

I am sitting in my room shaking in fright. I accidently knocked over one of Josephine's vases this morning. She slapped me around the head, locked me in my room, and told me that Joe would deal with me when he got home. The thought terrified me. In fact, it still does even now five hours later. In the last year, since I scarred my eye on a nail, my punishments have become worse. Much worse. He hasn't yet caused any damage aside from bruising, but I am worried that soon one of my punishments will result in more damage than can be easily explained away.

It's not that I want to stay here because I don't, but I know that sometimes being put more officially into the foster system would be even scarier. Here, I know what makes Joe tick, and though some of it is unpredictable, it is better than going into a situation with no understanding of my surroundings. See now I am technically adopted, and social services no longer perform house checks, but if I were to go and complain, I would start moving houses.

No. Better to stay here, until I'm old enough to leave on my own. 

I hear the front door open, and a shudder rolls down my back. Hushed voices converse downstairs before footsteps pound up the stairs to my attic. I back into the corner, draw my legs to my chest, and wrap my arms around my legs. 

The door opens, and Joe walks into the room, looking irritated and shouts, "You clumsy little brat. You broke your mother's favorite vase."

_"_ _ She's not my mother,"  _ I think to myself, but I gave up on reminding him after what happened the last time. I won't call her mother or him father, but I won't argue when Joe calls them such. 

He walks up to me and grabs my arm and throws me into the wall behind me. As my back slams into the wall, my breath leaves me. He hits my face hard, and I try to pull my arms up to protect me, but one is still firmly in his grasp. My one arm that does go up is hardly going to be effective, but I can't bring myself to not at least try to protect my face. His fist collides directly with my arm, and I scream as I hear a sickening crack.

I hear footsteps approaching which doesn't make sense because Joe is in front of me saying, "What have I told you about screaming?"

He grasps my wrist and hold it tight causing me to whimper in pain.

"Skyler," I hear. Which doesn't make sense either because Joe never uses my name. He is now shaking my shoulders, but it is surprisingly gentle, which isn't like him at all. I feel the blanket over me being pulled off. Wait. Blanket?

Slowly, I open my eyes. Dai is in front of me, looking decidedly concerned. A dream. It was a stupid flashback. I sit up, and he continues to look at me, making me feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Are you alright?" he asks noticing my discomfort.

"I'm fine," I say, but by the look in his eyes, I know he can tell I'm lying.

"Don't bother lying to me," he says with sympathy in his eyes. It only makes me more uncomfortable. The near pity in his eyes makes my mind scream, "Abort! Abort! Run away." Lot of help it is. 

I react the way I always do when things unnerve me; try to make the person confusing me mad so they'll react in a way I'm more familiar with. It usually hurts, but it's better than being pitied. I scowl and say, "Why'd you ask then?"

Instead of becoming angry like I expected, his eyes soften into understanding. My stomach churns with the thought of just what it is he's understanding. Hesitantly, he sits on the end of my bed and says, "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Wait, what?" I stutter in question because that definitely wasn't what I expected to come out of his mouth.

"Do you know why I stayed here for the holidays?" Dai asks. 

I consider the question. There could be several reasons. He could live in an orphanage, his parents could be abusive, or he could live on the streets. I figure it would be best not to suggest any of these to him, so I say, "No."

"Surely you could think of some possibilities," he prods. 

I glance warily at him to judge how he could react, before reluctantly telling him of the three theories I came up with, not letting my eyes stray from analyzing his reactions. 

Unlike the negative response I anticipate, he nods and says, "All three would've been right at some point or another." My eyes widen slightly at his divulgence of informative. My brain immediately starts to try to come up with a way that all fit together, but it is useless because he continues, "My parents were both Slytherin purebloods, and were, like many long lines of Slytherin purebloods very prideful. As a result many parents are rather  _ strict.  _ Almost a third of all Slytherin house has suffered from some form of abuse. However, Wizarding Law isn't very strict on child abuse, unless it is Muggles abusing a Wizard child. 

"Anyways, I ran away when I was ten and spent some time living on the streets in Diagon Alley and Muggle London. My parents were dead by the time I received my Hogwarts letter, and I've lived in an orphanage since. Why are you still here?"

I only briefly consider feeding him the same story I gave Professor Snape, before deciding that if he gave me his whole life story, I can give him a bit of information. I say, "My adoptive parents were abusive, and Professor Snape thinks I lived in the streets before I came here, so when school ends I'll probably be sent to live with my Aunt and Uncle, where Harry lives, but they're not really all that nice either, and I don't know what it will be like living there."

I say the words quickly because I know that if I pause I'll never be able to keep going. What living with the Dursleys will be like is one of the things I'm fearful of finding out. I should ask Harry because he lived with them, but it's not how they treat him that I need to know since I already know most of that. What I need to know is how they will react to me, but I won't know that until I get there, and... I take a deep breath to calm myself.

Dai is looking at me worriedly; he says, "It's almost time for breakfast. Why don't you get ready? You can sit with Harry and ask him what you need to know."

****

I get ready on autopilot, and pretty soon I am walking through the doors to the Great Hall and sitting at one of the circular table that have been placed out for the holidays to replace the house tables. I hesitantly nibble on a piece of toast as I wait for Harry to arrive, seeing as I am the only person in the hall. 

It doesn't take long before Harry rushes in, panting and out of breath. I look up at him and smile as he walks over to me, but my smile doesn't quite reach my eyes. He walks over and sits next to me.

"Are you alright?" he asks, "The Slytherin boy staying here said you needed to talk to me," he says the words almost hesitantly.

My cheeks flush slightly. Dai went and got Harry for me; he must think I'm so weak. I push down the slight embarrassment and reply, "Yeah. I- I wanted to ask you about... Well, really it's," I take a deep breath to control myself and say, "How do you think the Dursleys will react to me staying there with you since that is probably what will happen at the end of the school year?"

"Oh. Yeah. I hadn't really thought about what would happen at the end of the year. I suppose you'll probably either stay in the guest room or stay in my room with me. I'm not really sure. I mean, they probably won't be happy that you're there, but they'll deal with it."

"Oh," I say in relief, "Thanks Harry."

"No problem. Oh you should come with Ron and I tonight. We're going to go and see this mirror I found. It showed me our Mom and Dad and other people who looked like our family. I'll come pick you up and we can go under the cloak."

Suddenly, before I can tell him I'd love to, Ron throws open the Great Hall doors and comes running in, "Harry!"

Harry turns to look at Ron and, smiling, waves him over. He says happily, "Ron. I was just telling Skyler that she should come see the mirror with us tonight."

Ron scowls slightly and says, "Ok, but now you need to come on. We need to go look for," he looked at me and amended, " _i_ _ n _ the library."

"What does it really matter now Ron. I just can't wait to go see my parents again tonight."

There is something off about Harry's voice. Like his only care now is the mirror, and it makes me worried for him. A mirror certainly can't bring our parents back, it can only be a momentary relief from his pain of missing them. Also, what is it they're looking for in the library. I decide not to pry because Ron seems to not want me to be involved, and I don't want to ruin he and Harry's relationship.

I tell Harry he can go with Ron and I'll see him later that night.

****

When we meet up later, two hours before curfew, Harry throws the invisibility cloak around the three of us and we head towards this mirror he found. We look for nearly an hour before Ron says, "I'm freezing. Let's forget it and go back."

" _No,"_ Harry hisses at him, I know it's here somewhere."

Finally, Harry locates the mirror in a room near a suit of armor. Harry stands in front of the suit and asks if we can see. Neither of us can, so I tune into Harry's thoughts like I've done so many times before, and I see them. Harry tells Ron to "look in it properly" but he just sees himself as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain. When I look in, I almost step back in surprise.

I see myself, with Harry and Professor Snape and Theo and all my friends, but I look happy. It's this that makes me pause. I can't remember ever having seen such a carefree look on my face. I look at the engravement on the mirror and put the words in reverse. "I show not your face but your hearts desire." It's just showing us how we want to be.

A noise comes from outside the door, and we all run out. They drop me off in my dorm, and Dai and I talk for a bit before going to bed. I can't help but wonder if I'll ever look like I did on that mirror.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Leave a review if you're feeling like it.


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